


Safe and Sound

by writeme



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeme/pseuds/writeme
Summary: Canon Divergent Season 6 - Set after 6x02 "Red Sun Rising" Clarke and Bellamy finally speak about what happened during the eclipse and start to delve into those six, long years of separation and how they felt then and still feel now, about each other. Dark, emotional, potentially triggering content referencing suicide and self harm.





	1. One

The look he’d given her; the stark and brutal expression of realization that creased into his face, was ingrained in her mind permanently. She’d reached for him, tried to assure him it was alright that  _ she _ was alright but everything around them was falling to shit so fast, there was no time to truly communicate that. Between Murphy’s condition and the presence of Octavia, her mom, and the others. The moment was lost before it could manifest.

Wasn’t that always their problem? With everything else always piling up on top of them so often, there was no time for them to properly talk or communicate. It felt like the terrible words they’d exchanged during the eclipse were the most any of them had spoken to her since they’d woken up. Some of those words had been seared in her mind too, much like the look Bellamy had given her; they haunted her thoughts now.

_ I don’t need you anymore _ .

Those words caused her more pain than his hands had when they were grasping and clutching at her throat with the most ill of intentions. The small finger sized bruises that littered her neck would fade into a putrid yellow and then vanish as if they’d never appeared. But nothing would ever allow her to un-hear those words. Or un-feel the weight of them, either.

The self-loathing didn’t leave her when the eclipse ended. It hadn’t been the catalyst for those feelings; no, those were ones that she’d stewed in for six long and lonely years stranded on Earth. The celestial event on Alpha had only maximized them to a terrifying point. The idea of taking her own life had crossed her mind plenty of times in those six isolated years, but the responsibility and love she felt for Madi were the only things that had kept her from succumbing to those looming feelings of despair and depression. Before finding the young girl in the valley, she had thought about and even attempted to take her own life more than once. Clarke had always been better at surviving for others than she was at doing it for herself. Finding Madi may have been the only thing that truly allowed her to keep the hope alive. 

She couldn’t help but let out a self-deprecating laugh to herself when she realized that perhaps those feelings of love and responsibility she felt for Madi were the only reasons she was glad Murphy had managed to stop her from her earlier attempt. Six years alone on Earth, 125 years in cryosleep, and nothing had changed. She was still alone. She might always be. When they thought she’d died for them, she was a hero. But when they found her alive? She was the scapegoat once more.

Her mom and Jackson were tending to Murphy in the makeshift infirmary they’d made in one of the rooms near the schoolhouse. She’d wanted to help them, but it seemed like a too many cooks in the kitchen type scenario and she knew when it was best to stay out of her mother’s way.

Back at the school house, the rest of the family she was no longer welcome to be a part of were all huddled together around Emori, who was in a supreme state of despair. Raven was stroking her hair lovingly and casting daggers at Clarke as if she were the one who’d caused all of this. She probably blamed her for Shaw’s death too, even though in reality she’d been the  _ only _ one who’d tried to help him. But then again, nothing she did ever seemed to be enough to prove her worth to any of them at this point. She took a deep breath, willing herself to move on from such thoughts. Instead, her eyes continued to study the configuration of their group.

Even Jordan was there with them, part of their family in a way she could probably never be now. He was the perfect mix of Harper and Monty and sometimes staring at his sweet, familiar face made her long for them even more. Just like she felt for Madi, she felt an irrepressible need to protect Jordan. Even if he ended up choosing to ostracize her along with the rest of them, she’d vow to honor his parent’s memory through ensuring he had a good, thriving life here. But each time her eyes studied his kind, soft face; she was met with even more overwhelming sadness and the reality that she’d never see them again. 

None of that made her jaw clench quite like seeing Echo tenderly wrapping fresh gauze around the wound on Bellamy’s leg; it wasn’t the familiar affection between the two of them that made her feel sick though. 

Clarke herself had been the one who had done that to him, despite the circumstances, knowing she’d wounded him made some deep part of her ache, just like she had when she’d left him in the fighting pit to die. Her deft fingers instinctively went for her own neck, faintly touching the sensitive skin that she knew would be marred by darker bruises now. She cringed at the terrible thoughts that seeped in again, the ones wishing that Bellamy had held her neck like that just a little longer, harder; until the life had slipped out of her. Perhaps it could’ve been his greatest act of love. She shivered at the terrible thought, it made her heart feel a dull ache like the one she’d had those years without him.

Her less than savory thoughts were interrupted when she felt a pair of concerned eyes burning a hole through her and without looking she knew exactly who they belonged to.

At first, she didn’t dare look over at him for fear of unraveling completely. Yet, after only a few breaths, the weight of his stare felt so heavy it forced her to eventually look. With eyes rimmed red, her pupils found his and the desperate look on his face was akin to the one she’d seen there when they’d first woken up outside and it was just too much. She swallowed hard and tore her gaze away as quickly as she’d found his. She needed to get out of here. She’d barely murmured the words; “I’ll be right back,” to no one in particular before she was heading out the doors and as soon as the wood had clanked shut behind her, she’d started to run. She wasn’t sure where she was going but she wanted to be far away from everything and everyone right now.

Despite the events of earlier, she was greeted by emptiness. She ran past the small buildings that surrounded the school and then past the large courtyard area where Murphy had serenaded them all. She kept going until the sobs she’d been desperately choking back had spilled out completely, overwhelming her fully, forcing her to stop running. She found a small patch of trees amidst the expansive clearing and sunk down against him, finally allowing it all to pour out of her. The sadness, the loneliness, the anger, the grief; it seemed to all flow through her in an endless font of tears.  But no matter how much or how hard she cried, she couldn’t rid herself of any of it. No; those feelings were the fabric of who she was and it was her plight to carry them with her always.

She finally managed to get herself under control, her breathing at least somewhat regulated and she’d just pulled her shirt up to wipe away her snot and tear-covered face when she heard a twig break under the weight of someone’s foot and her heart sank. Had someone followed her? Had they seen her like this? Expecting to find her mother, she whirled around, quickly rising to her feet, brushing furiously at her wet face to make herself presentable.

She couldn’t help but gasp when instead, her eyes came to find  _ him _ standing there instead. “ _ Clarke _ ,” He said her name in a way only he could and it threatened to undo her again. It was laced with so much emotion that it seemed almost tangible, so much pain, torture, and agony, yet also something else;  _ love _ . He took a step towards her, one hand in his pocket, the other reaching for her.

“Don’t,” She shook her head furiously, taking a step back. She didn’t want his comfort. She didn’t deserve it. And she sure as fuck couldn’t tolerate the look of what could only be described as pity that seemed wrought into those dark eyes of his. It was all she could do not to start crying again.

He put his hands up in front of himself in a show of surrender. He meant her no harm, only comfort, but he’d try to respect her boundaries. He’d keep his distance, for now, but he wasn’t leaving her like this. His hands fell back to his sides and he took a ragged breath, taking in the sight of her. The harsh angles of her jacket were such a stark contrast to her soft, crestfallen face, spotted red with emotion and stained with tears. The black t-shirt she wore was stretched, frayed, and wrinkled at the collar where she’d used it to clean herself up. But then, his eyes darted more heartbreakingly to the bruises along her neck and he couldn’t keep his distance anymore, he moved towards her briskly, ignoring her soft protests and he stopped only inches in front of her. “Let me see,” He requested, his voice surprisingly soft given the gruffness of his movements. 

“It’s nothing,” She replied, but her eyes wouldn’t meet his, yet she didn’t move away from him either. She did, however, pull her jacket in closer so her collar provided more coverage and left less of her blemished skin exposed. He didn’t need to torture himself with the sight of it. He wasn’t himself then anyway, so it wasn’t his responsibility to bear; not this time.

But then he was saying her name like  _ that, _ again. “ _ Clarke,”  _ It seemed almost like he might break completely if he didn’t look and she felt she could at least do him the courtesy of letting him keep his dignity since hers hadn’t bothered to show up for the conversation at all. 

As soon as she loosened her hold on her jacket, he stepped forward and pulled it slightly away from her skin to have a better look. His hands, full of parted fabric, came to rest on her shoulders. He took a sharp breath in as his eyes fell over the marks that mirrored his fingerprints. His eyes lingered for a moment before fluttering closed in apparent self disgust, a feeling Clarke knew all too well. “I could have...” He started, his eyes still closed, his facial features wrought with despair.

“But you  _ didn’t _ ,” She stressed and in spite of herself, found her own hands reaching up to wrap around his wrists. Her words would open his eyes and she finally forced herself to look into them then, convincing herself it was more for his benefit than her own. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find there when she stared up into his warm, inviting eyes, but the fear she found there was certainly least expected of all.

She’d sounded almost  _ disappointed _ when she’d spoken those words and it made him feel instantly sick. How could she ever…he shook the thoughts from his mind not allowing them to fully process; he  _ couldn’t  _ let them. They’d have killed him right there. 

“I never would have forgiven myself,” His voice was gruffer now, more like she thought it should sound. But then, one of his hands dropped down from its grip on her collar and found her hip instead. Before she had time to react, he was pulling her body forward, flush against his. His hand moved from her hip to her back, settling in the middle of her spine, closing any space between them. Even though she didn’t think she deserved the comfort, she gave in immediately. Her own hands came to wrap around his torso, gripping each other as they met at the back of his waist. She buried her face into his chest, her cheek and ear pressing against it in a way that made the thump of his heartbeat feel like it was all around her; she took an odd comfort in it.

“That wasn’t you.” She breathed out, as if reminding them both. It was his other hand coming to rest in her hair that made the tears flow again. He’d snaked it so easily into the roots at the base of her neck, and the way his fingers feathered the lightest of touches there just sent her over the edge. For a moment, she clutched him tighter and he followed suit, his hand on her back dropping down lower and keeping her pressed firmly against him. It was when his nose had nuzzled her hair, just so, that she began to remember that she’d done nothing to earn such tenderness from him, not after all she’d done. “Besides, I stabbed you!” She sobbed out in a sputter; as if trying to remind him she didn’t deserve to be held like this.

His only response was to turn his face further into her hair, his lips finding her temple platonically. “You were protecting Murphy,” He reminded her. “Thank you, for stopping me. If you hadn’t...I could have...I  _ still _ could have…”

It was her turn to soothe him and perhaps that was the only factor that allowed her to pull herself together and regain some semblance of stability for herself again. She pulled back slightly so her eyes could find his. “Cockroaches can survive anything,” She reminded him affectionately and somehow, a hint of a smile appeared on both of their lips before vanishing all the same. When she peered into his dark orbs, she was met with a need for reassurance she felt only she could give him. “You haven’t let them down, you are still their leader, Bellamy. They trust you and look up to you because you protect them. You always have, and this doesn’t change that. Nothing you do could would ever make them give up on you,” She promised, knowing that on some level that had to be a part of his fears and worries. That he’d end up like her.

The way she said ‘their leader’ seemed to distance herself from the group and he couldn’t shake the pangs of guilt that plucked at his chest at the realization that it had been, in part, his own words that made her feel like she wasn’t one of them anymore. His eyes found hers again and seemed to implore ‘ _ What about you _ ,’ but instead of responding, she just cast them back to the ground. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure where she fit into all of this. 

Sometimes she thought maybe, if things worked out down here, she could just pack up Madi late one night and leave everything and everyone behind and they could live like they had when it was just the two of them and no one else existed in the world. The lines had been drawn in the sand and it was clear the rest of that group had no interest in forgiveness or acceptance when it came to her. She’d resigned herself to this fact now in a way that actually made her okay with it overall. 

She could lose them all again, she’d proven she could survive without them. But as her eyes looked back down to the wrapped wound on his leg she couldn’t help but admit, if only to herself, that there was no way she could ever survive losing  _ him _ again. It wasn’t just love and responsibility for Madi that kept her alive those years; it was also something else. Those radio calls had been her sanity, it was true. But it was the hope that he might one day answer that kept her coming back and holding on to life down there without him. The idea that she might one day see him again; kiss him for the first time; be loved by him. The idea that they might be a family. Those feelings had also helped her to prevail through solitude and certain death; even if she chose to pretend now that they did not exist. But to him, she had died and he had moved on with someone else and his family didn’t include her and Madi and somehow, she had to be okay with that.

“Six years,” His words drew her out of her spiraling thoughts. “I thought you were dead for six years. We haven’t even talked about that…” He swallowed hard and the thickness in his voice caused her to look back up at him, finding that now his eyes were rimmed red. He’d stewed in his own quiet contemplations as he held her there flush against his broad, strong chest. “I never stopped grieving you, missing you-;” He blinked furiously to keep threatening waterworks at bay and it was enough to make her own eyes well back up. There was a hint of an addendum left unsaid there. He seemed to think better of voicing that feeling out loud, lest such a confession cause any pain or awkwardness between them. “And _you_ ,” His nose wrinkled as he tried to collect himself but his voice still cracked on that word before he continued. “You called me on that radio _every_ _day_ for six years and I’m just supposed to not-” It was him now who tore his gaze away because it was just too painful to articulate while looking into her beautiful, sad eyes. Eyes he was sure he could get lost in forever. His own pair darkened then, reminding him that despite the sweetness of that memory there was another, fresher one that fell on the opposite end of the sentimentality spectrum. “But then you left me in the…” He trailed off, he wouldn’t finish that statement, he’d spare her that at least. He didn’t mean to be harsh or cruel but those two things just didn’t make sense together in his brain. How could she call him every day for so long, which expressed some level of love a the very least; but then just after getting him back, she was able to leave him to certain death? How could both of those things exist in the same reality?

“Bell,” She found her hand moving to cup his face tenderly before she could stop herself and she stepped closer, tears slipping out. “I…there _ is _ no excuse.” She looked down at her feet in shame but she couldn’t let herself get away with that so she looked at him again after a moment. “I don’t think sorry could ever be enough. But I am, so, so sorry.” She took a ragged breath. “The truth is I,” But then she seemed to lose her nerve as quickly as she found it.

“The truth is what?” His hand had come under her chin to tilt her face back towards his so they made eye contact again, but then his hand had fallen away, too quickly for either of their likings.

“I’d survived without you for six years. I grieved you. I missed you every fucking day…sometimes I was so miserable here without you I….” She stopped herself and her eyes became impossibly sadder. “Madi needed me. That’s the only reason I didn’t-“ She closed her eyes and took a harsh breath. “For a long time Madi was my everything. Protecting her wasn’t second nature to me, it was my  _ only _ nature. When you threatened that...I was blinded, my need to protect her won out over the only other thing that kept me alive down here my-” She shook her head again. She couldn’t say the words, not like this. “She was my only reason to live. To keep her alive. Losing her is unimaginable.” As unimaginable as losing him.

He listened to her words intently and he couldn’t deny that he understood, at least on some level, where she was coming from. He opened his mouth to reply, she was talking again.

It wasn't just Madi that kept her fighting to survive and he deserved to know that.  “Without  _ you  _ life just wasn’t worth...“ She wasn’t even sure how she’d intended to end that statement but the tears sprung again and she tried to swallow them down. It didn’t matter. He didn’t feel  _ that _ way, not about her; not anymore and maybe not ever. She dropped the vulnerable thought she’d been about to divulge and changed course; “Meanwhile you were up there with your  _ family _ and you fell in love,” And she had to fight hard not to let herself finish that statement with the words, ‘with someone else.’ “And I am happy for you because that’s exactly what I wanted to happen when I stayed behind. For you to survive and be happy. For all of you” She took a ragged breath, “But,  _ you _ don’t need  _ me _ anymore.” She opted for instead; which kind of meant the same thing as him loving someone else now, if she really thought about it.

There was no hesitation in his response and his hand found her cheek and before she knew it, she was leaning into his touch longingly. “I will  _ always  _ need you.” His breath seemed to catch in his throat with that confession. He almost wanted to add that he wanted her too, not just needed her; but it hardly felt appropriate to say in his own mind, much less out loud and to her directly.

“That’s not what you said earlier,” She couldn’t stop herself, the words were out there in front of them, ruining the softness that had started to swell around them in the moments before.

“That wasn’t me.” He borrowed her earlier sentiments. “That eclipse it made us all do things we’d never….” But something about the look in her eyes and how they’d immediately shifted away from his; made him stop. His own pupils darkened as they stared into hers. “What happened?” He asked protectively.

She tried to stammer out some reasonable response but there was no use, really. He’d see through her lie and persist until he got the truth out of her so why not just start there instead. She was too tired and worn out to go round and round with him now anyway. “When I was;” She stopped, clenching her jaw, “...it made me;” She swallowed hard, the words like razor blades in her throat making her realize just how difficult it was to articulate them out loud. “I didn’t want to hurt you, or Murphy.” She looked up at him, carefully choosing her words. “I wanted to eliminate the source of everyone’s pain and suffering. I wanted to-” Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth before she repeated the words the hallucination of Abby’s voice had repeatedly instilled in her, “...eliminate the toxin.” She surprised herself when she tacked on. “Which has always been me.” 

Each of their jaws would drop at that pronouncement. Hers, because she couldn’t believe she’d actually admitted that to him. His, because her words were so staggering and unexpected. Quickly, before he may try to reach out and comfort her more, she stepped back from him, it was just a couple steps but it was enough to end the closeness between them. It made his hand fall away from her face again and she wished she could have it back instantly.

The weight of her words sank down onto his shoulders like a sense of responsibility he didn’t even realize he had. She’d wanted to kill herself. She believed they would actually be better off without her. It sure seemed like they had all been able to move on just fine without her. Hell, if Madi hadn’t told him about her radio calls, he may never have known how much she’d needed him all those years. She didn’t call them. She’d called him. She’d needed him and he couldn’t be there but she still tried. And here she was, still thinking that he didn’t feel exactly the same way. 

She never got to hear about all the nights he’d cried himself to sleep grieving her. The weeks he’d spent holed up and alone wanting nothing to do with the others as he tortured himself with the thoughts of how her final moments down there had played out. She didn’t know that he’d laid alone in his bed so many nights wishing she was lying beside him. She certainly didn’t know that when things first became physical between him and Echo, he had to imagine that he was with  _ her _ instead just to feel anything. He hadn’t moved on from losing Clarke, not ever. He’d just found metaphorical bandaids and other temporary remedies to avoid dealing with it. Echo was the strongest placebo of all. The realization felt like a knife through his heart. “ _ Clarke _ -“ 

“Don’t,” She didn’t want to cry again. She had come out here to be alone and now she wanted to be more than ever. “Nothing you say is going to change my mind about what I know to be true.” Some part of him had to know that it wasn’t just the psychosis that made her feel this way. To reiterate that she supplied, “They hate me, and I’m not saying they aren’t right to but…” She wanted to say more, about how they’d  _ all _ done shitty things and how much  _ she’d _ scarified to save  _ them _ all. About how fucking exhausting all of this was. But then, it was all going to sound like a string of excuses and it was just the two of them anyway. What was the point? She wrapped her arms around herself defensively; it was the only way she could force the next words out of her mouth. “When I’m in charge, people die.” She ignored the hurt that washed over his face when she said that because she truly hadn’t meant it as a dig at him. She was trying to emphasize her earlier point, about her being bad for everyone. He looked like he was going to start rattling off examples that may refute that so she tacked on, “When I  _ love _ people, they die” Her eyes gave him a warning look as if trying to let those words specifically sink into him. “So maybe it’s best for everyone,” Her eyes lingered on his emphatically as if to say that everyone really just meant him, “if I just-“

“Don’t,” It was his turn to use that cautioning word on her. “Don’t ever say that.” Whether she wanted to think she deserved it or not he scooped her back up into his arms and even though she didn’t uncross her own from the defensive stance she was in, she didn’t exactly shake him off either, not right away at least. “I’m not better off without you,” He muttered, and then added expeditiously, “I  _ never _ have been.”

One choked sob escaped her lips and she brought her hand to her mouth willing it back in. She shook her head against his strong shoulder. “All I ever do is hurt you.” Her voice was wet and hoarse all at once. “I can’t let myself do this to you anymore.” She tried then to pull away, but he just tightened his hold on her. “Please, just let me go,” Her request was weak at best and she hoped he couldn’t sense the complete lack of conviction in her words.

“I can’t.” He muttered into her hair and somehow that was enough to make her stop trying to fight how good it felt to be held like this. It also reminded her of how long it had been since anyone had held her like this and she couldn’t help but indulge in how right it felt, especially when the holding was being done by him. “I never could.” He reiterated, drawing back to look at her, his hand coming up lovingly to her fact again. “You made me brave. The only reason I survived up there is because I told myself you couldn’t die for nothing. We had to live because I couldn’t let you down. Even if you were gone I-“ Finally the tears slipped from his eyes and he couldn’t stop them this time. “I never stopped…” The unspoken words seemed clear enough between them, and he couldn’t stop his thumb from brushing longingly over her bottom lip.

“Me neither,” She whispered, her eyes fluttering at his touch.

“If you had been up there…we...” A pained expression knit into his brow, he shouldn’t say such things; it did neither of them any good.

“I know,” Her voice was warm and quiet, but then more harsh when she added, “But I wasn’t, so it doesn’t matter anymore.” It was all she could do to stay strong herself, to not give in to the warmth of his touch, to not let her lips press to his with the great need she felt for him; to not show him what longing for him had done to her.

It would always matter and they both knew it. This unspoken thing between them, this magnetic draw, this innate need. It was interwoven within the fibers of who they were now, of all they’d endured. “It matters to me.” He admitted vulnerably.

“Well, it can’t.” She said the words mostly to convince herself and they had more bite than she meant for them to. It pained her to see the way his face contorted in such a dejected way when she’d spoken them into existence. More softly and earnestly she added, “You’re happy with her. You deserve that. I want that for you. And I think we both know I could never-“

“You could.” He interrupted. She always had. How did she not know that? But then, how could she? He shouldn’t have said anything but now that he had opened this can of worms, it wasn’t like he could just take it back. “You fucking do.” He groaned, letting his thumb trail back against her full, pouty bottom lip one more time selfishly and then he leaned in just a little more and it would only take one of them tilting their head just a fraction of an inch and their lips might brush in a way they’d certainly waited long enough to experience. But then, they hadn’t waited this long for it to be tainted. No, despite what she thought, she deserved better.

He pulled away from her so abruptly it sent a shock through her. He gave her one last long, hard look and then he was backing away from her. If he didn’t distance himself now he was going to do something he could never take back and he wasn’t sure how it might fracture them irreparably if he did. Instead he shifted uncomfortably and changed the course of their conversation again. “Our people need you too, Clarke. Even if they aren’t acting like it right now they still care about you and-“

“They have been trying really hard to prove otherwise” she scoffed, turning away from him slightly, looking up towards the sky. “Look I’m not going to give up, okay? You don’t have to dangle the idea they might one day forgive me in front of me to convince me to fight for this,” She motioned around them to the nature and buildings of Alpha, “Whatever this is. I’m sticking around and we’re figuring this out.” There was an unmistakable look of optimism in his eyes at that, as if she’d said some magic words that gave him some sense of hope that things might be the same between them all again one day. So to effectively dash that pipe dream she added, “I’m doing this for Madi. She needs me. She loves me. All I care about is keeping her safe.” She swallowed, averting her eyes.

“You care about more than that and you know it,” He contested and she gave him an annoyed look that seemed to challenge that statement. 

“You’re right.” His eyes were once again a lit with that misplaced enthusiasm, so she worked quickly to squash it once more. “I want to do better for Jordan, too. And to honor Harper and Monty.” Her eyes found his. “That’s all.”

He gave her a tight smile, wondering why she was so intent on making it clear she didn’t belong with them anymore; or more importantly with him. Maybe the other’s were keen to forget all she’d sacrificed for them time and again, but he certainly wasn’t. “ _ We _ bare it so they don’t have to…” He muttered quietly and they did share a look of understanding then and her posture softened slightly. Still, he felt compelled to add gently, “What if,  _ I’m  _ the one who needs you here?”

His words caused her to take a ragged breath but she didn’t falter, she wouldn’t allow herself to. “I don’t think you do anymore and I’m not just saying that because of what happened earlier.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I fit in this any more.” She studied him, trying to decide how much of the truth she should divulge. “I guess I just always thought that when you came back,” She closed her eyes swallowing her words. “Never mind.” She was exasperated, she’d come out here to get away from the stress and this was only making it worse. Telling him  _ that  _ would only make it worse. 

“Please, tell me.” His voice was tinier than she’d ever heard it.

“No. It’s stupid,” But her eyes welled up again which sort of indicated the opposite of what she was trying to prove.

A fourth time, “ _ Clarke,” _ In that way only he could say it. “Please,” His tone was begging and it made her cave instantly.

“I just thought if you ever came back to me that we’d- you, me, and Madi; we’d be a family…that was the dream that I made myself fight for. Every. Single. Day.” She shrugged and now that she’d said it out loud, she wished she could take it back because she hated feeling so vulnerable and stupid especially around him. “Satisfied?” She bit harshly, her eyes brimming with tears once more.

He’d already reached forward to grab her hand before he could stop himself, and their eyes were locked on one another’s intently. Just as he’d opened his mouth to reply, someone else was calling his name. Even though the voice was somewhat far away, she could tell it wasn’t just anyone; it was Echo. “Your _ girlfriend _ needs you.” Clarke articulated, cementing the end of the moment they were just sharing. She dropped his hand and stepped away from him again. 

That word sounded so dirty on Clarke’s lips. His eyes looked over them. Even dry, chapped, and marred with tiny cuts and bruises her lips looked so soft and inviting. But then, he heard his name articulated again this time with slightly more annoyance and urgency and he knew he had to let the moment end once and for all. He turned his head towards the sound of Echo’s voice but kept his eyes on Clarke. “Be right there,” He called out, clearing his throat. When he looked back down at her, her arms were crossed in front of her again. “I’d really like to finish this conversation later.” He said quietly, but gave her an emphatic look.

“Yeah, sure.” She shrugged noncommittally. “Duty calls,” She added, nodding her head towards the space where Echo had just called him and was now retreating from with her back to them.

What could only be described as a pained expression settled on his features. This was all too formal for either of them. But still, he started to walk away, if he didn’t now, he might not be able to. 

However, he only managed a few short steps before he was stopping short. He couldn’t help but look back at her. “Clarke?” He spoke her name like a question and she turned her head, but not her whole body, to look back at him wordlessly. “That dream you had...” He breathed the words out almost inaudibly but she definitely heard them. “It sounds perfect.” 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you so much to everyone who left a review or kudos, I truly appreciate it. I contemplated waiting to see how the next episode went before posting this chapter, but I couldn't help myself and since I planned for this to be canon divergent anyway, I decided it didn't really matter! 
> 
> I absolutely love the connection between Bellamy and Clarke and how they can say so much while saying so little, give each other those looks, and figure out what the other means ever when the important parts are left unsaid. So, I hope I can capture that and do their beautiful story justice.
> 
> Anyway, without further ado; I give you chapter two. Please review! <3

Echo had come calling for Bellamy to let him know that Murphy had finally woken up. It was touch and go for a couple hours after, but he seemed to be out of the woods and on the road to recovery now. Although he was still in rough shape and needed to stay on bed rest for awhile, he was definitely going to pull through. 

Together, Abby and Jackson determined that the toxin had affected him in a different way than it had the others and hypothesized that perhaps that was why, in a surprising turn of events, he’d been able to remain the most rational. His current state  _ wasn’t _ a result of the harrowing blows issued to him by Bellamy, but a different kind of reaction to the poison. Their theory was confirmed by the hijacker they’d taken prisoner and while they waited to make contact with the leaders of this planet, Abby planned to pick her brain about the Eclipse and its effects as much as possible.

Despite that reassurance being paired with Murphy’s instant forgiveness and immediate use of self-deprecating humor as a balm for the tense situation, Bellamy still felt like a monster. He wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself for what he’d done to Murphy and Clarke and he didn’t particularly care that; if ever there were a valid excuse for almost murdering two of your best friends, he most certainly had it. Even if everyone else was quick to grant him amnesty, he was content to torment himself a bit longer; if not forever.

As he looked down at his hands in revulsion, he saw flashes of memories he’d use to torture himself with later tonight. He recalled the agonizing flashbacks with harsh clarity. His hands had caused so much pain. His hands had shoved Murphy under the water and held him there with harrowing intention, drowning him within an inch of his life until Clark had drug him out. Then, his hands that had turned on her; brutally grasped at Clarke’s throat and pressed hard enough to leave a reminder that would last for days. The idea that he’d even come close to ending her life made him feel overcome with nausea instantly. Being strong for his people, being the leader they needed; those were the only things that kept him from letting himself unravel completely. 

Abby beckoning for him to come speak to her couldn’t have a better time. Being needed was the only thing that could keep him going right now. She had some antibiotics back on the drop ship that they needed to go back and retrieve and Bellamy had volunteered immediately to head out first thing in the morning to get them, as the suns had long since started their descents and darkness would befall planet Alpha soon enough. Perhaps this chore could be the beginning of his absolution.

Abby had fussed over his stab wound, which she was pretty sure he was downplaying but patched him up anyway. She had enough experience with Clarke’s stubborn nature to know she and Bellamy were one in the same and that once he’d put his mind to this, there was nothing she could say that might veer him off course. 

He hadn’t seen Clarke since leaving her out by those trees. She hadn’t joined the rest of them for the makeshift dinner they’d created out of pooled rations brought down from the ship. By the time everyone else was retiring for the night, he started to grow concerned. 

Octavia had made herself scarce as soon as the food had been handed out. Jackson and Miller had gone off to their room first, tired from the day’s events. Abby had agreed to stay with Murphy for the night to monitor him. She’d even managed to convince Emori to go off and get some rest and it had been the promises of Raven and Echo staying with her all night that had really sold her and forced them all from the schoolhouse doors. 

That left Bellamy alone and truthfully, he’d welcome the solitude for the night. He wasn’t sure why he’d turned his face when Echo had gone to kiss him, but; she seemed to think nothing of it and pressed her lips affectionately to his cheek all the same and then traipsed off with the other women. There were so many words he’d meant to say to her tonight, but it seemed they’d be left for another day.

Clarke’s confessions were still fresh in his mind. And they were what brought him off his feet to seek her out, still not fully sure what he intended to say when he found her. But, he had told her he wanted to finish their conversation and he did, desperately. Even though he wasn’t really sure what he hoped they might accomplish by delving further into such topics. They were currently playing with fire and he was afraid who around them might get burned as a result. Nevertheless, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from stoking the flames. 

He wouldn’t have long to contemplate these thoughts or formulate a plan, as he soon found her sitting on the porch steps of one of the small huts and found himself approaching her more quickly than he’d intended, clearing his throat to alert her of his presence. “You should eat something,” He stated simply, in place of a greeting, extending a half-full thermos of Monty’s now infamous green liquid towards her.

She’d heard him coming, but made no move to welcome or avoid him. “I’m not hungry.” She replied with a standoffish air, not really looking at him right away. Despite her reaction, he unscrewed the lid and then set the thermos next to her foot before taking a seat beside her on the step where she was perched, not waiting or caring to see if she was in the mood for company. 

“Murphy woke up.” He told her, staring straight ahead, content to dance around the elephant in the room. “Your mom is tending to him for the night and then I’m going to head back to the drop ship in the morning, get some medicine for him.” He wanted to ask her to go with him, but Echo had already volunteered and it didn’t seem entirely appropriate to invite her along as their third wheel. Or rather, he knew that it wouldn't be Clarke who ended up feeling like the third wheel and he wasn’t ready to deal with the implications of that yet either. 

“That’s good,” She replied, her voice and eyes distant. “I’m glad he’s going to be okay.” She added, finally looking over at the thermos, which she picked up and idly took a sip out of. In her peripheral vision, she could see a small smile play on his lips as a result and she was happy to have the opening of the container in front of her mouth to hide her own tiny grin. “How’s your leg? Should you really be hiking back through unknown, alien-foliage with a recently acquired stab wound?” She inquired, using her hand to wipe her lips before setting the thermos back down.

Her concern caused a pang in his heart. “Your mom stitched it up and cleaned it out, it wasn’t deep so, even though it may not feel that great, it’ll be fine.” She gave him a rather pointed look as if to say she wasn’t convinced, but he avoided her gaze momentarily and dropped his voice an octave to say, “I did this to him. I have to make it right.” 

She reached over and squeezed his hand quickly and softly, reassuringly and in an instant, she dropped it again. ”You didn’t, but; I get it.” She nodded in complete understanding; if anyone knew the aching need for absolution from your sins, it was Clarke Griffin.

Speaking of things he’d done he needed to make right, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flick over to her neck again. “How’s your neck?”

“Barely feel a thing,” She lied, looking down at her feet. It was his turn to show her he was far from convinced, and her cleared his throat to get her attention before raising his eyebrows in apparent disbelief. She tilted her head slightly, asking him not to do this to himself, not over her at least. “I’ve had it worse.” She added more truthfully. 

At least that he could accept. 

“I’m sorry, you know. I don’t know if I ever actually said that before.” He spoke timidly and though he thought better of it, he reached over and placed his hand gently on her knee.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” She responded quietly, hyper aware of the the sensation that coursed through her at the warm contact. She turned to look at him, “I’ve done worse to you and I was myself then,  _ not _ under some toxin induced hallucination.” She admonished gravely, her eyes giving her words even more depth. 

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are not always the same,” He said gently; calling back to a conversation that was  _ actually _ a lifetime ago now. They stared meaningfully at each other for a long moment of uninterrupted silence before it became too much for her and she was forced to look away.

She decided to change the subject, “So, you’re going tomorrow morning, to get the medicine?”

“Mhmm,” He nodded, urging the thermos closer to her again, willing her to drink some more. He hadn’t saved half his rations for her for nothing, afterall. However, he knew better than to let her know that he’d gone without for her; so that would remain his secret.

“I could go with you…” She suggested innocently, but any smile that may have been forming on her lips faded quickly as he looked down at the ground and she knew instantly what would make him react that way. 

“Echo is…”

She tried her best to hide her dejection, but in order to do that, she couldn’t look at him and she certainly couldn’t let him finish that sentence; “Forget it” 

“ _ Clarke _ ,” If she’d just looked at his eyes, she might see that he wished it could be different.

“Forget it.” Then, after a beat. “If I ask you something, will you be completely honest with me?” She wondered out loud, clearing her throat.

“Depends what you ask,” He admitted candidly, not quite sure where she might be going with this. 

She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to torture herself by finding out, but the words were tumbling out before she could think better of it. “How did you and Echo…?” She twisted her lips and averted her eyes, assuming he could fill in the blanks.

His heart was pounding hard against his rib cage. He hadn't expected that question. “ _ Clarke _ ,” His tone was a warning one, but he continued anyway. “What does it matter?”

She ignored that question and persisted. “How long was it before you two…” She’d already opened Pandora’s box, might as well delve deep. 

“Before we, what?” He wasn’t sure what she was asking really. Before they hooked up? Fell for each other? If she wanted to be intrusive and expected an honest response, she’d have to at least be straightforward.

If he wanted her to be direct, she’d give it to him as bluntly as possible. “Did you  _ fuck _ her first or  _ love _ her first?” Her words were crass and brash, the verbs enunciated with a particular malice that made him feel gross and despicable; like he’d done something wrong by being with Echo even though he knew he hadn’t. 

He knew, also that he shouldn’t answer that question. He should just say her name again and roll his eyes before changing the subject. But then, she’d drawn her eyes back to his and he didn’t see judgement there or anger, but only sadness and maybe curiosity. She looked so vulnerable and it was enough to make the word come out before he could stop himself, or think better or it. “Fucked,” His tone was dark and quiet, a hint of shame found there, but he held her gaze nonetheless. 

“How long was it before you fucked her then?” She asked, her eyes still full of challenge that made him look away, which brought her some level of satisfaction. But when he dropped his hand from her leg with a sigh to run it through his hair in frustration, she felt anything but contentment.

He gave her one final, pleading look asking her not to go  _ there, _ but she was too consumed by her own depraved curiosity to do something so reasonable. When it was starkly clear she wasn’t letting this go, he sighed and began with, “There wasn’t a lot to do up there besides think and talk and...” He said tightly, trying not to take her bait to argue over this.

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, it must have been so boring for you up there,” he tried to give her a look that explained that wasn’t what he’d meant. “No, seriously Bellamy; I mean it sounds really terrible for all of you, not fighting for your life every second of every day. Not having to wonder if you’d run out of food or eat something poisonous causing you to leave the only person you had left on the entire planet to inevitably starve to death.” Her eyes were so dark now, he saw none of her in them. “Meanwhile, you felt so safe you, you were able to forgive her for all the fucked up shit she’s done; forgive her enough that you…” Her eyes flashed bulbs of white hot anger and then, she fully abandoned the track she’d been on, and pressed her earlier question again. “How long did it take?” Her head tilted to the side and he knew she wouldn’t relent. 

Maybe he deserved that, a little. She wasn’t completely wrong either. Compared to her, they’d lived a life of relative luxury aboard the ship. They’d had time to indulge in small pleasures; like forgiveness and passion, time to indulge in each other.

All while she had been down there, with nobody to turn to in that way. No one to turn to at all, except for a child who relied on her completely; whose mere existence increased Clarke’s sense of purpose and responsibility ten fold. 

She’d had no idea if they would ever come back to her yet, she had kept hope alive enough to call him every day; for six years. Maybe he owed her the truth, for that alone. “Four years.” He rose from the steps and looked down at her. “Satisfied?” He asked coldly, and then instead of leaving, he walked into the hut and sat down on one of the beds inside.

She waited a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity to him, before following him inside. She sat down beside him on the bed, set the now empty thermos next to his foot like an olive branch, and sighed. “I”m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that. What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.” 

He ignored her attempt at using humor to alleviate the tension. “It wasn’t easy for me you know.” He didn’t look at her, instead he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, chin resting on his folded hands.

“What, fucking her?” She asked with a sarcastic laugh that came out more harsh than she’d meant it to.

He glared at her and then looked away again. There were a lot of ways he could respond to that, but none of them would do either of them any good. He chose one anyway. “I wanted it to be you.” Her breath audibly staggered at that, and his eyes found hers with their own challenge this time. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I…” She was truly at a loss for words, her jaw agape. That was  _ exactly _ what she wanted to hear but she hadn’t  _ actually _ been prepared to hear it; not in any way, shape, or form. 

“You were dead, Clarke. You were dead and we weren’t even really together before...but it still felt like I was cheating on you. It still took me four years to be with another woman and even then…” His pupils grew at that, and then he stopped short, rising from the bed, his back to her.

“Even then, what?” She asked, all of the sarcasm and grit gone from her voice.

“ _ Clarke _ ,” Her name seemed to cause him physical pain. He begged her to let it go, but he knew she wouldn’t.

“Please,” She begged, but there was more softness in her voice than desperation. She rose to stand behind him and she moved to grab his arm but just as she reached forward, he turned around and her hand made contact with his chest instead, just above his heart, and she could feel it pounding against her palm. 

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it real. Saying it out loud made him guilty. Saying it outloud would bring more harm than good. Yet, there he was, opening his mouth and telling the truth. “Even then I, I thought about…” His eyes studied over every inch of her body before they found her own pair with emphatic need.

She swallowed hard and felt a shiver run up her spine. She wouldn’t dare confess what she’d thought about in her most private, desperate times; when imaging his hand in the place of her own had been the only way she could bring herself pleasure. Instead, as her eyes stared deeply into his, she articulated something they both felt. “If only we’d had the chance,” Her eyes watered again. “It would have been so-” She stopped herself and swallowed, avoiding his gaze. “You should go, Bellamy.” 

“I don’t want to go.” He said in that tiny voice he’d used earlier, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips.

Even such a small act was enough to drive her crazy. “I  _ need _ you to go.” And the fire he found in her eyes told him exactly why she was saying that.

In spite of himself and  _ all _ his better judgements he replied, “I  _ still _ don’t want to go.” And when their eyes met, hers saw all his weakness apparent in them. 

Even though she had no desire to be, she was strong for them both. “You’d regret it.” Then, she moved towards the door and drew it open before she was tempted to give into her own weaknesses and mounting desires. If he didn’t leave now, she couldn’t hold herself accountable for what happened next. “Goodnight, Bell.” She said softly, the torture evident.

Disappointed as he felt, he knew she was right, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It only made him love her more.

They shared a longing look when he stopped in front of her. Once again, he knew better, yet still he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight,  _ Princess _ .” And he really should have looked back to see the soft smile that played on her face, but maybe it was for the best he didn't. If he had, he surely wouldn’t have been able to make himself leave.

**************************************

“Wake up!” 

Clarke’s right eye popped open, and she sat up, instantly alert. Octavia was sitting on the bed across from the one where she’d passed out last night, fully clothed and not even bothering to get under the covers. “What do you want?” She asked the brunette skeptically, arching an eyebrow at her.

“You’re going with Bellamy.” Octavia supplied, as if this was information she should already know. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

“No, actually; Echo is-”

“Not anymore.” Octavia interrupted bluntly, giving her a knowing look. Then she added, “Listen, the hijacking bitch I met yesterday was looking for nightbloods on the ship and she was highly concerned with the bodies of her three dead companions. Even though I could literally not care less if something bad happens to you, it would destroy  _ him _ and I can’t let that happen. Not again.” She said darkly. “So if you go with him you can-“

“Did she find Madi?” Clarke’s heartbeat quickened and she crossed her arms across her chest. She couldn’t wait for Octavia to finish rambling. 

She gave her an annoyed look before replying. “No. The Commander,” She opted for a nomenclature that might bother Clarke the most, “actually killed one of them.” Amusement played on her face at the look of horror that played on the blonde’s. “Dropped down out of the dining hall air vent like a total badass and shot one of them right in the chest and then, she sassed Diyoza.”

A mix of worry and pride creased Clarke’s features then. “Where is she?”

“On the transport ship actually, so, all the more reason to head that way.” 

It would take no more convincing than that. Given she’d fallen asleep with her boots on, she wasted no time grabbing her pack and was about to leave that small hut without so much as a goodbye to the other woman, when something struck her. “Wait, why do you want me to go with him so bad?”

“Because he sure as fuck isn’t going to let me escort him and even though I don’t trust you, I know that besides me you’re the only one who would sacrifice yourself to save him rather than letting him sacrifice himself to save you and we both know how much he likes to play hero.” She stood up, folding her arms across her chest. “Besides, you owe him your life.” She stated simply, a sick smile playing on her lips at Clarke’s evident confusion. “Ask him about the algae. Why he  _ really _ poisoned his own sister.” And with that, she was pushing past Clarke and heading out the door.

Trying not to read too much into Octavia’s cryptic message, likely only divulged to cause drama or get under her skin, Clarke headed towards the main courtyard where she’d woken up yesterday afternoon to find the new arrivals. There, she saw Bellamy with his own pack and a gun, talking to Jordan and Miller as the suns were only just cresting over the distant horizon line. He was clearly ready to head out and she couldn’t help but notice that Echo was nowhere to be found. Maybe Octavia had been telling the truth, at least about some things. She made a mental note about the algae, to bring it up to him later, if the time was right.

She waited until she’d approached the three of them, stopping in front of Bellamy who instantly cast his eyes over to her. “I’m going with you.” She said matter-of-factly, letting him know he didn’t have a choice. Before he could hit her with one of those signature mutterings of her name, meant to talk her out of whatever plan she’d come up with, she poignantly added, “Madi is there.”

The mention of the young girl let him know there was absolutely no way he’d be able to talk her out of this. With a resigned sigh, he turned to Miller, “No point in all three of us…” 

“Yeah, of course, I’ll stay here.” Considering Abby had to patch his own gaping arm wound the previous night, he was happy to stay behind. Nodding he turned, handing his gun to Clarke before taking his rations and extra ammo out of his backpack to hand her as well. “Look out for each other,” He said pointedly, clasping each of them on the shoulder respectfully before walking back up the path towards the school.

Jordan couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face as he studied the pair of them admiringly. “What?” Bellamy asked curiously, as it seemed sort of misplaced amidst all that was happening. 

“Mom and dad always told me that when you two team up, things always go better, that’s all.” He shrugged and leaned forward, hugging Bellamy first and then, much to her surprise and utter delight, repeated the same with Clarke. “Gives me hope.” He shrugged. 

“Take care of them for us, will you? They’ll need a leader while he’s gone.” Clarke winked as she pulled back from the younger man. 

“Why you’re  _ both _ gone.” Jordan corrected. “Mom and dad had me wake you up together, remember?” He added, with a little too much optimism.

“Fair enough.” She said with a sheepish smile, squeezing his shoulder fondly. “Can you tell my mom I said goodbye?” She asked gently, running her fingers through her short blonde hair anxiously.

“Of course.” He nodded, giving them one more smile. “Until we meet again,” He added and then, he turned and headed towards the direction Miller had just ascended.

“Until we meet again,” They said in unison after him, small smiles forming on their lips in spite of themselves. Their eyes met and they shared a knowing look; Jordan gave them both a sense of purpose here. He was their physical reminder from Monty to do better this time.

Now that they were alone, the air was thick with tension. There was something different in his eyes now but she couldn’t quite place it. Rather than be tactful in trying to garner more information from him, she decided to just get to the point. “I thought Echo was supposed to be going?” Clarke began, once Jordan was out of earshot.

Bellamy began to gnaw at his bottom lip pensively, his eyes squinting slightly as he looked anywhere but at her face, deciding how to answer that. In the end, he simply when with, “She’s not.” And gave her no further explanation other than to turn on his heel and head out of the courtyard, expecting she’d follow.

She did.

She managed to last an entire thirty minutes before she gave into her desire to ask for more information. Even knowing she should leave well enough alone, that’d he’d tell her when she was ready, she couldn’t stop herself; “Why not?” She asked, her voice cracking slightly from lack of use.

He closed his eyes briefly, his hope that she might actually let him get away with providing such little information fading. “Why not what?” He asked, annoyed. 

If he was being honest, he’d barely noticed the silence the last half hour, as he’d been so completely lost in his thoughts. Lost in what had transpired last night after he’d left her hut, when his feet and heart had decided to commiserate against his brain, and he’d found himself outside of the small building where he knew Echo would be asleep. The conversation that had ensued from there may have been unplanned, but; it was completely necessary. Yet somehow, he’d still left more confused then when he’d arrived. 

Afterwards, he’d thought of going directly to see  _ her _ but then, that didn’t feel right either. It was why he was fighting so hard to avoid talking about it with her now. Afraid of what they might do if they both had the information he was currently guarding so close to his heart. Afraid of what he might let himself do after he told her. Afraid of how it would change everything.

“Why didn’t she come?” She asked, as if it should be obvious that she was merely continuing their earlier conversation. “Your  _ girlfriend _ .”

He shuddered again at how dirty it felt for her to call Echo that. “Something came up,” Was his only response and he kept walking, tucking his thumbs under his backpack straps. He gave her a pointed look that willed her to drop it. “Leave it alone, Clarke.” He warned over his shoulder, shaking his head.

She couldn’t leave it alone. It wasn’t in her nature. Her desperate want; nay, her impetuous  _ need _ to know, nagged at her incessantly. “Just weird that she was supposed to go with you and now she’s not here…”

He stopped, his body a half-turn towards hers, eyes weary. “You never know when to quit.” He glared and shook his head at her and the seriousness in his eyes kept her from quipping back at him right away. 

She even let him advance a few paces ahead of her so she wasn’t right next to him anymore. In fact, there were at least fifteen more minutes of prolonged, tense silence between them before she was breaking it again. 

“Two thousand. One hundred. Ninety-nine.” She said to back of his head. As expected, her cryptic utterance caused him to throw a confused look over her shoulder but when she didn’t move to provide any further details than that, he shook his head and then turned back to face forward and keep walking.

Another few minutes of silence ticked by.

“It’s the number of days in six years.” Her words made him stop walking, but he didn’t turn around. “And I think that pining for you every single day for 2,199 days might just earn me the right to be intrusive about this.” As she spoke, she’d closed the gap between them and he knew she was right behind him. If he turned around and looked at her, he was going to lose his nerve. His will power was going to evaporate. He was going to cross that line of no return.

But then, her voice sounded so shaky as she demanded, “Look at me, Bell.”

With great trepidation he turned around, granting her that request. “She didn’t come because….” He felt so broken as he looked into her eyes. He didn’t even know if there was a right way to end that sentence. “She said that she needs some time to think. That we both do.” He tore his gaze from hers and swallowed hard, hoping she’d see the implication in those words and leave well enough alone. 

Then, he started walking again, even though her sharp inhale signaling her stark realization had been enough to make him want to turn around and pull her into his arms right then and there. He thought better of it though, and instead of acting on that almost overwhelming urge, he exercised what may have been the last remaining bit of self-control he’d be able to muster when it came to her. “Now leave it.” He said firmly after a few beats of silence.

Much to both of their surprise, she did leave it. Maybe it was because she wasn't even sure where to begin with that new piece of information; or what exactly it meant. Had they broken up? That thought made her simultaneously deliriously happy and inexplicably mad. She felt an almost smug anger towards him then. Perhaps, it was because she didn’t understand why he hadn’t come to her instantly. Didn’t they have an unspoken understanding of how things might have been if Echo hadn’t been a part of the equation? Or, maybe it was because she was trying to respect his wishes as she knew that tortured look he’d had in his eyes and all it meant, because she’d worn that look before herself. Either way, it was killing her not to find out more.

Luckily, he wouldn’t leave her to suffer perpetually. “Of course I wanted to come tell you,” His articulation made it seem like he’d read her mind and for a moment, she worried she’d accidentally voiced her thoughts out loud without realizing it. “But I didn’t want you to think that you were just…” She quickened her pace to come up next to him and put a hand on his bicep, bringing them both to a halt. 

“What did she say when she broke up with you?” She asked, heart pounding at record speed.

There was too much expectation in her voice when she said that; too much hopefulness. He hated to crush it, but he had to be honest. “She didn’t break up with me,” His words dashed a hope that had been growing between them then. “She just asked for some space to think…”

“Why?” She asked, her eyes watering, causing her to look away slightly.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes reddening. He didn’t want to say it, but he didn’t want to make her cry, not again and he could tell she was dangerously close. “She accused me of something I couldn’t deny.” That was true enough, maybe she’d let him off the hook there. But her eyes implored him to continue and he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. None of this had been easy for him. “You  _ know _ what she said.” His words came off as a warning, as if to caution that if he spoke them into existence now, he could never take them back.

“Maybe, but I still want to hear you say it,” She said, her voice gravelly, on the brink of betraying her strong facade.

He turned and looked sternly at her. They didn’t have time for this, not right now. They had to get to the drop ship and get back to the village before nightfall. That was the mission. But as he took one look at the desperation in her eyes, he knew he had to give in. He moved to stand directly in front of her, looking right in her eyes as he spoke. “She said that from where she stood, it seemed that, even after all this time, I was still in love with you and she started to cry, so hard...” He looked away from her with an anguished look. “Then, she asked me to prove her wrong and…” He stepped forward and cupped her face in his rough hands. “And I couldn’t.”

It was her eyes that became a lit with optimism now and he was the one to crush it because it looked as if she may lean up to kiss him and it couldn’t happen, not like this. “She asked me if that meant I never loved her and I told her that, of course I had. And she asked if I still did...and I told her it was complicated.” He couldn’t look at her as he spoke the that part, because then, she might know it was a complete fallacy. “I told her that I...that I loved both of you.”

The words came like a crushing blow, and she thought for a moment it might’ve been more pleasant to have his hands around her neck again. “Oh-” The word, or rather _strangled_ _sound_ , came out flatly. “I see.” She added, nodding curtly before she stepped away from him. She waited for him to reach out for her, to stop her from walking away from him. Some fantastical part of her even hoped he might pull her against him and kiss her anyway, despite everything he’d just said, but he didn’t. 

No, his hand not holding his long gun just twitched by his side as he fought like hell to keep it from reaching out for her. “We should keep going.” She said finally and she didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in her voice. With that, she let his confession invade her brain so she could stew in the words indefinitely. She took the lead, walking in front of him several paces ahead.

The minutes ticked by in slow motion after that.

He opened his mouth several times, to say  _ anything _ to her that might explain his position; but the words wouldn’t come. Each time he tried to muster the nerve to explain himself or clarify, he found himself at a loss. 

“You’re in love with both of us?” She asked, not turning around.

So they were going to do this. “No.” He sighed to himself. “I didn’t say that.”

“You  _ literally _ did.” She argued, her tone haughty, still she kept her face forward and didn’t dare turn back to look at him, then she might lose her nerve.

“No. I said I loved both of you. And I do love Echo and I don’t want to hurt her.” He really tried to swallow down the next part instead of letting it come out but, when might he have the chance to be alone with her like this again, with no one around for miles? “But I’m not in love with her, not the way I am with you.”

He was met with only silence at first and he swore he could hear every single sound of the forest they were walking through before she gave her response. His neck had started to redden with anxiety; had he crossed their imaginary line? Had that confession taken things too far for her?

“ _ Bellamy, _ ” The way she said his name made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Her voice was so light and airy; so full of  _ something _ he couldn’t quite place until she’d turned her head over her shoulder to find his eyes and he’d seen it so clearly reflected in her own. 

_ Desire. _

“Fuck it.” She seemed to make a final decision regarding the warring thoughts in her head and there was no turning back now, “I have to know what it’s like, at least once.” She’d spoken those words with hurried steps that turned her fully around and brought her back towards him. Before she could lose her nerve, she was leaning up on her toes, angling her face upwards, her parted lips ready to meet his if he’d have them. She ignored the conflicted look on his face as she grabbed two fistfulls of his t-shirt. “Kiss me,” She breathed, her lips hovering below his, waiting for permission. 

He shouldn’t. He should be strong for both of them like she hadd been last night. But he was tired of being strong and he was starting to wonder what it was they were so afraid of happening if they just let themselves go there. “ _ Pl-”  _ He wouldn’t let her beg for it, not when he wanted it just as bad. So, before she could get the word out completely, his hands came to grip each side of her face as his lips came crashing down against hers. 

For all the times they’d each envisioned what it might be like, no fantasy, no matter how realistic, could have ever prepared either of them for  _ this.  _

Sometimes she’d imagined his ship landing after all those years apart and she’d see herself running towards the doors as they lowered, jumping into his waiting arms, Madi close on her heels as he picked her up and spun her around; kissing her tenderly and timidly as the intrusive eyes of Spacekru onlookers hooted and hollered their approvals and ‘about time’s’ chorused through the group. Other times, she imagined it to be just the two of them there when it happened and he’d be giving her that look that said a thousand unspoken beautiful words and he’d simply mutter, “ _ Princess _ ,” And then his lips would press to hers with unbridled want, but still, tender gentleness.

For him, it was different. He thought he’d lost her in  Praimfaya. His fantasies usually involved her making it to the doors of Becca’s lab in time, and then once the air lock had sealed he’d pull off her helmet and let his lips crash to hers with magnanimous need. Or he’d let his delusions really run wild, and pretend she was up there the whole time and that they’d danced around each other for a little while before giving in to their balant desire for one another in some private corner of the Ring, were no eyes could see them at all.

And while those ideations and  _ many _ others had gotten them each through some of their most passionate or darkest of times, they were  _ nothing _ compared to the real thing.

There was little tenderness in the way his lips pressed hungrily to hers; devouring them like it might be his only chance, as if he knew he had to make it count for  _ everything _ . Her hands released his t-shirt to find his hips, fingers grasping roughly at him, ensuring he was real and not just another of her imaginings. Where his shirt rode up slightly and her fingers found exposed skin, it felt almost like electricity flowed between them.

  
When his tongue slipped ardently into her mouth, the moan that escaped from her lips was his final undoing. He backed her against the closest tree trunk, pinning her there as his thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, the kiss deepening further. He never wanted it to end; never wanted to know any feeling other than this; to hear any sounds other than the soft moans and whimpers he elicited from her as he bestowed passionate kisses to her lips and let his hands wander her body in a way they never had before. He wanted to live forever in this moment, right here, right now; with only her. 

There was no telling how long they remained there, kissing as if their lives depended on it. Finally, he turned his face to take a much needed breath, leaning his forehead against hers, as their chests heaved together rapidly. “ _ Clarke _ ,” He rasped breathlessly.

But it seemed that act, small as it were, broke the spell that had been momentarily cast around them.

She shook her head no, averting his expressive gaze and leaned up to press one final, more chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before slipping out from where she’d been wantonly trapped against him. “We need to get to the drop ship.” She broke the silence decisively and the finality in her tone made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about what had just transpired between them, at least not yet.

Silence befell the rest of their trek, but it was an odd mix of both comfortable and strained. He let her take the lead and when they were close enough to see the outline of the drop ship in the distance, they even shared a small smile.

As they approached, she could make out the figures of Madi and Gaia, engaged in some sort of training in front of the drop ship’s wide open door. The mere glimpse of the young girl made her break out into a sprint, slinging her gun over her shoulder by its strap. “Madi!” She called out as she took off. 

Though he didn’t run after he, he quickened his own pace and watched with endearment as the young girl registered Clarke’s voice. Even from a distance, he could see her eyes light up with adoration. She tore off towards his blonde companion with intense speed, jumping excitedly into her arms when they came together. “Clarke! I missed you so much.” She declared, grasping onto her in an affectionate hug, her body relaxing as though she were  _ home _ as soon as she was locked in Clarke’s embrace. 

Bellamy could relate to that feeling more than he was willing to admit. Especially since their moment against that tree.

Something about seeing Madi for the first time again, amongst the nature and foliage of this new planet deeply struck her. It took her back to that magnificent, seemingly untouched valley where  she’d first laid eyes on the wild, ferocious little girl that would one day be her reason for living. Her family. “My girl,” She whispered, wrapping her arms more securely around Madi and letting out a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding since she laid eyes on her. “I missed you more than you could ever fathom.” Her voice was full of emotion and she nuzzled her nose affectionately into the younger girls’ hair to buy herself some time to better collect herself.

“Bellamy!” Madi’s voice had a mirrored excitement as he made his approach and he would be caught off guard when she reached for him. She still had one arm around Clarke when her hand had snaked out to pull him in as well. It sent his body crashing into Clarke’s and he had to place his hand on the small of her back to steady himself there against both of them. Madi had one hand around each of their waists and her head came to rest on the space where their arms met. “I’m so glad you’re both okay.” She squeezed them both a little tighter in lieu of finishing her thought.

Maybe if he had still been unaware of that dream Clark had of the three of them being a family, he could’ve survived that hug without realizing how complete it made him feel. Without it making him fully cognizant of how much he wanted that dream of hers to be a reality. 

Clarke’s eyes found his for only the briefest of seconds before they were each looking away, instantly overwhelmed. His knowledge of her most private longing clearly had a similar effect on her. He wondered then, what Clarke had told Madi about him and what it might be like when he came back and if those whispered hopes had been what made her endearment towards him so strong now. He settled a hand on each of their backs adoringly. Perhaps he’d been wrong earlier, if he were forced to pick one moment to live in forever; he’d without a doubt choose  _ this _ one.

He was drawn from those blissful notions by the gasp that fell from Madi’s lips and she let go of him so her hands could pull back Clarke’s jacket, studying her battered neck. “What happened to you?” She asked with wide eyes, full of worry. She saw a flash of panic in Clarke’s eyes and it made her own pupils dilate further in realization. “That Eclipse...the woman told us it made people do unspeakable things but...who _...who _ could do that to you?” Knowing all to well of Clarke’s perpetual need to shield her from harsh realities, she turned her eyes towards Bellamy; knowing she had a better chance of getting the truth if she tried obtaining it from him. “Who did this to her?” She rephrased, her worry replaced with something else now; indignation.

Protect Madi, at all costs. That was always her mission. Even if her little girl now had The Flame inside of her neck, and with it the wisdom of all the Commanders before her, she still didn’t need to know everything. In their years alone together, flipping through Clarke’s memory book of sketches, she’d regaled Madi with stories of Bellamy the hero. Bellamy, who was coming down to rescue them and take care of them. Bellamy, who would love her as much as Clarke did. Who would protect them both at all costs. Who would complete their little family. _Their_ Bellamy, she’d called him. She couldn’t let that illusion be further tainted than it already had been. “Everything that happened during that time is sort of-”

He’d waited to respond. He wanted to give Clarke a chance to be the one who told her, if that's what she’d wanted. But he refused to let her lie. Not about this; it only made him feel more ashamed of himself. “It was me, Madi.” Bellamy was looking Clarke right in the eyes when he interrupted her would be fabrication. Then, he tore his gaze away to meet Madi’s resentful one. He found an odd pleasure in the fury he found behind her typiccally soft eyes. Finally; he’d found someone who wasn’t willing to let him off the hook right away.

Madi had not even considered that Bellamy could’ve one this an option, so it threw her completely off balance. Her fury faltered, and he found anguish there instead. “How could you?” She asked, her eyes darkening. “You were supposed to protect her! You promised me you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her!” She lunged forward, fists slamming into his chest. “You promised me!”

Her words pierced through him like bullets. He could hardly look at her as his eyes become glassy with emotion and threatening tears. “I know and I am so sorry.” He swallowed hard, his shame evident. He wished he could say something better, but he knew if he tried to stammer out anything else, he’d cry in front of all of them and that was something he refused to do. Madi slammed her fists against his chest again and he stood there to take it willingly; it didn’t at all hurt; not as much as he wished it might. 

“Madi.” Clarke’s voice snapped the younger girl to attention, Commander or not, there was still someone she took orders from. “That’s enough.” She warned, but stepped forward and placed and affectionate hand on her shoulder, drawing her back. “It wasn’t his fault.” She pulled the girl against her chest and kissed her temple. Then, dropping her voice low and with her lips right next to her ear, so only Madi could hear she added, “Imagine how I’d feel if I’d done that to him.” Clarke crouched down in front of her slightly and they exchanged a look of acknowledgement before pressing their foreheads together. “Trust me, he’s still  _ our _ Bellamy,” was her final whispered promise.

The brunette nodded her understanding, but her eyes still threw a few daggers at Bellamy as she slipped her hand into Clarke’s intertwining their fingers as they walked the rest of the way back to the drop ship. 


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well after three rewrites and lots of self-doubt, I hope you enjoy chapter three. Warning: angst ahead; prepare for torture. Also my apologies for any mistakes, I do my best to edit but sometimes they slip by!

Having three more companions on the way back to the village meant that the two of them would have no time to discuss any of what had transpired between them earlier. Madi was still less than pleased at the sight of him. He’d caught her eyes throwing daggers over her shoulder at him sporadically; when Clarke’s attentions were elsewhere on the trail or maybe even, on rare occasion, lost in her own thoughts. Gaia was on the younger girl’s heels as if she were her shadow, following closely behind the pair.

Bellamy had been content to hang back with the  _ quite _ pregnant Diyoza, a welcome excuse to hide the real reason he was currently at the back of their pack. His leg was aching beyond belief; he’d truly been in no shape to make this trek. Due to the slick wet feeling he’d noticed on his pant leg, he’d realized that he’d probably blown at least a stitch or two and it wouldn’t be a pretty sight later.

To distract himself from the dull, throbbing pain; he allowed his eyes to drift over her body. Her hair was so different now, so much shorter than he ever remembered seeing it. But it suited her, it really did. He worked his eyes down lower, taking in her curves with silent appreciation. 

When they’d met she was just a girl and it was inarguable that she’d always been undeniably attractive and that even when he’d found her to be insufferably frustrating and vehemently set in her ways; he’d recognized she was pretty. But now, she had grown into a woman and a strong, beautiful one at that. A woman weathered by tragedy, yet still soft and gorgeous. A woman who had borne the stress and burden of others countlessly, yet still had the most adorable laugh and joy-bringing smile. A woman with a child, he thought to himself, his eyes moving over to Madi.

Clarke was telling the girl something that made her smile reach all the way to her eyes. Eyes that looked up at the blonde adoringly. It reminded him of the way Octavia used to look at him. But that was a lifetime ago now, in more ways than one. She wasn’t even Octavia anymore. Yet, she wasn’t really Bloodreina anymore either. He wasn’t quite sure who or even,  _ what _ she was, really. But he knew he was afraid of whoever it was she’d become and that was a feeling he truly never thought he’d have. Either way, it had been a long time since she’d had such unsullied adoration in her eyes directed at him, or anyone else for that matter, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever see it again.

There was a time he thought he may never see a look of reverence from Clarke again either. When he’d put The Flame in Madi’s neck and she hadn’t woken up; he’d honestly thought the worst. If he’d forced Madi into this and she’d died it wouldn’t matter if Clarke had ever been able to forgive him, which was a far fetched idea at best. No, he’d never have been able to forgive himself; let alone  _ live _ with himself.

When she’d struck him across the face, it had felt well deserved on his part. He’d asked himself how he could honestly  _ really _ fault her for trying to inflict at least a fraction of the pain upon him that he’d inflicted upon her. 

He’d violated and broken her trust in the  _ worst _ way. And her in mind, it’d probably been without a second though when, in reality, he wondered how he’d even been able to stomach the way it had all played out. Even though he still firmly believed it was the  _ only _ decision that would save everyone, Clarke included, he’d hated putting her through that. Especially after she’d sacrificed  _ everything _ for them so many times. He couldn’t even begin to count them now, the memories swirling in his head of all the times she’d bore it so the others wouldn’t have to. His tongue came out to wet his lips and he swallowed hard, thinking of  _ the _ sacrifice she’d made. The one he’d believed wholeheartedly had taken her from him for ever. 

She had stayed behind to do what had to be done; so they could make it to The Ring and power the generators needed to pump the oxygen that was the only thing that might keep them walking on the right side of that fine line between life and death. Staying, even though she had completely believed doing so would ultimately result in her death. She’d had no idea her synthetic nightblood would be able to keep her alive and she’d stayed anyway. Then, she’d waited six years for them to come back to her. For  _ him _ to come back to her.

The things she’d done since his return played through his mind like a movie on fast forward, able to catch only glimpses of each memory before he was moving on to the next one. She’d called him 2,199 times in a row. She’d gone down for the plan they’d hatched and executed together to kill Cooper and she’d done it willingly to give him the chance to do what needed to be done for the greater good. But then, he hadn’t done that, at least not in her mind.

No, she’d been chained and isolated so that he might find a way to make things right and he hadn’t done that. Sure, his resolution made sense on some level she could admit that. But he’d gone against every single one of her instincts and requests. She’d begged him not to do it. She’d been crying when she did. And still, he’d left her chained up, rubbing her wrists raw on the metal hand restraints as she tried desperately to get out of them. Even knowing her efforts would be fruitless, she’d still tried with all her might to get to her, to protect her child; the  _ only _ family she’d known for the past six years. It had been excruciating for him to leave her there like that. The way she’d screamed and sobbed his name echoed in his ears and burned into his eyelids even now as he recalled it so vividly. The agony. The betrayal. The loss of trust. The loss of hope.

Strangling her because of the toxin wasn’t the only time he’d hurt her. It was just the first time the marks he’d left could be seen by anyone else. The shame of that realization filled him with regret and self loathing. He hadn’t even noticed that Dioyza had gone ahead of him now and was walking with Gaia, leaving him alone. It was better this way, easier to let himself slide further into his self-inflicted misery.

He’d have been satisfied to torture himself with those thoughts for the rest of their walk if he hadn’t heard someone’s voice to his left, drawing him out of his disturbed daydreams. “She told me stories you know. Drew pictures. Of all of you.” He looked down to meet Madi’s eyes thoughtfully as she went on. “You were her heroes and you became mine. And I couldn’t wait to meet you. The real Bellamy, from all the stories, who I could trust to protect us. And the very first time we met? That’s exactly what you did.” Her words, brought a new memory to the forefront of his mind.”They’d kidnapped her and then suddenly, I found you and the rest of Spacekru and you were...” She smiled at the fond recollection. “Straight out of her sketchbook.” She affirmed, and suddenly Bellamy wished he could’ve been able to flip through her book of handcrafted memories at least once; to get that rare glimpse into her vulnerabilities and the inner workings of her mind, to hear the stories she told Madi. “I know I said Octavia was my favorite, but that’s just because I didn’t want the others to know that all of her best stories made it clear who her  _ real _ hero was.” Her words had an apparently purposeful implication that wasn’t lost on him in the least.

But then, her tone shifted more seriously, more wisely than she should sound for someone only twelve years of age, but still he knew it was her speaking and not the Commanders. “Once  _ you _ and Gaia put The Flame in me, I was able to see things so much differently and learn so much more than just her perspective on things.” She turned her attention from Bellamy up towards Clarke. “I realized who my  _ real _ hero was, it wasn’t one of the people from her stories. It was the person  _ telling _ them.” They shared an understanding smile, both of them aware of Clarke’s proclivity for placing everyone else on a pedestal whilst using her own back to hoist them up. 

“One of the first times we saw each other, she got her right leg really badly caught in a bear trap I’d purposefully led her in to and she was only trying to help me. She stitched it up with plant fibers in front of a campfire she’d built herself with nothing for the pain, I watched her from behind a tree, she didn’t even know I was there and she still wouldn’t let herself scream or cry. And then, the next day, she still tried to find me again and help me.” She added confidently, happy to supply one small example of her badassery, her voice oozing with fondness. 

Again, her tone shifted more seriously; “But when she took me away in the rover, leaving Wonkru like that...leaving you and Indra, and Gaia? The decisions she made in Shallow Valley were not her best either. Even though she did it because she thought it was best for me, I was ashamed of her. And in those moments, she wasn’t my hero.” She brushed a strand of long dark hair from her forehead and looked at him again. “You hurt her. On purpose. Toxin or not.” She glowered at him. “In that moment you were not my hero.” Holding her head a little higher now she finished with, “But Clarke reminded me that even though she let me down; let all of you down, I found a way to forgive her and  _ you _ found a way to forgive her.” 

Clarke looked quizzically over her shoulder at them at that exact moment. It was as if she’d heard her named mentioned, even though it was not possible. She was clearly dying to know what Madi was saying to him and she had a general air of discomfort at the fact she was flanked by Diyoza and Gaia instead of one of them. 

It brought her daughter and Bellamy each tempered amusement and they shared a smirk that she seemed to know was at her expense. Clarke rolled her eyes at them, slowing her pace a little. 

Madi continued, “She told me I was able to forgive her, because that’s what you do when you love someone and they are your family. I think that’s also why you forgave her.” She looked so innocent when she voiced the next words. “That’s also why I will forgive you.”

Overcome with emotion, he stopped walking and his hand came to stop her too. Swallowing the thick feeling in his throat, he gave her a weak smile, pulling her in for a hug she’d happily received. He whispered so only she could hear, “I will never forgive myself for hurting her. Toxin or not,” He lamented, that statement more loaded than Madi could possibly realize. “But I promise to prove that I am worthy of your trust and forgiveness and that I  _ will _ protect both of you, always.”

“I know you will,” She squeezed him just a little bit tighter then, before letting go and jogging back up towards Clarke who had stopped and observed their exchange, but resumed her pace before either of them might notice. With tears she had to blink quickly from her eyes, hoping no one else might notice them, she’d felt her entire heart swell with attachment.

 

*******************************************

 

Upon their approach to the village, Clarke and Bellamy were surprised to find the shields down. She’d taken care of them on their way out and had been ready to do the same upon their return, having memorized Shaw’s failsafe code. As they neared the area that should be buzzing with radioactivity, they instead found armed guards, ready to escort them to where the rest of their people were currently being held.

They shared a ragged breath and all too familiar look of ‘here we go again.’ Tightening her grip around Madi’s shoulders as she walked behind the guards, Bellamy strolled protectively beside her so the girl was between them. “Whatever happens, we try peace first.” He stated, his eyes finding hers as they shared a nod and she let the backs of her fingers coming briefly to brush gently against his. 

“Do better.” She agreed. “For Monty.” They shared a meaningful look, shoulders brushing against each other’s now, desperate for contact. “For Madi and Jordan,” She amended, before the doors to the tavern, where their people were being held, swung open for them to enter. 

Echo rushed to him immediately, despite her earlier absence and apparent suggestion of time apart to think. Clarke had to turn her face away as she watched the woman throw her arms around Bellamy and kiss him hungrily on the lips. Even with so many seemingly more important issues on her mind, she felt hyper-focused on this one. Seeing Echo in his arms made her want to cry in an entirely different way than she had when she’d watch him affectionately embrace Madi earlier; a sight that had made her feel  _ whole _ . The sight she beheld now; made her feel nauseated. Especially now, after all they’d acted upon and admitted to one another alone in the forest; with  _ all _ she still had left to tell him about how she felt. She tried her best to distract herself by hugging Abby, Madi still securely by her side but it was of no use. None of it could stop her heart from the ache it felt, wanting her to be the one he was holding and kissing instead. 

She’d be thankful for the sudden opportunity to squash that feeling down, for her still innate ability to let her head takeover for her heart at least in this regard; because all at once, the the tavern doors were opening again. Emerging from them, flanked by four guards on each side was  a man who would identify himself as Russell Lightbourne; asking to speak to their leader. 

“Bellamy,” Raven urged, looking at him pointedly, everyone around the room seemed to nod in agreement. Clarke looked down at Madi who seemed to wear a disappointed yet accepting look on her face.

Bellamy gazed firmly around the room, appreciating the faith of his people but understanding also that he’d always been the best version of himself when The Head and The Heart were working together. Maybe their time apart had forced them each to use both aspects, born from the most primal of survival instincts. Nonetheless, he would always need her help and temperance and he didn’t care who knew. 

As is eyes found hers, they immediately read his intent. She seemed to give him a cautioning look, saying that the rest of them wouldn’t approve; that he shouldn’t do this. But he didn’t care about that, not right now. If they wanted him to do what was best for them all, they’d have to accept this as his decision. Echo would have to understand and if she didn’t, that would be a conversation for another time. 

He stepped forward towards the man, and came to halt as close to him as he thought his guards might allow. Then he turned, quite clearly in her direction, “Clarke,” His voice was heavy yet starkly confident, his hand reaching out to her brazenly, beckoning her forward to join him. Madi released her hold on Clarke’s waist as she stepped forward, stopping to stand beside him, looking expectantly at his face. “We lead, together.” He clarified, looking first at her and then back at Russell. 

He eyed them both with a mix of suspicion and curiosity,“Very well. Freshen up and my guards will be here in an hour to take you to the castle where you will be received by my wife and I for dinner. I will have extra food brought to the tavern for your people who will remain here until you return.” He nodded his voice a moderate balance of welcoming and reluctant. 

 

*******************************************

 

Their political dinner with the Lightbourne’s had not gone as well as they’d hoped. Despite the incredible array of delectable foods in flavors beyond their wildest imaginings and the sweet tasting wines that had overflowed their cups that may have indicated otherwise; this meeting had less than amicable intentions from the start. 

Bellamy was distracted. Clarke had borrowed a dress from the tavern keeper’s daughter for the occasion and she was freshly showered and smelled of something sweet, fresh, and floral. The gossamer pink fabric held to her curves in a way he’d never known clothes could fit someone’s body. She was always remarkable to him, beautiful, sexy, strong; but tonight she was ethereal. A vision to behold. If Russell had poisoned their food or killed them tonight it would have been worth it all just to see her in that dress.

Things had started off friendly enough with their conversation but after their wine goblets were being refilled for the second time, the mood had shifted and it seemed more like an interrogation than a friendly exchange between leaders. 

It appeared that Jordan had a gotten a bit friendly with Delilah, the owner of the amazing dress Clarke was wearing, and he’d regaled her with tales of Earth. 

Tales of Mount Weather. 

Tales of the last conclave. 

Tales of Wanheda. 

Tales that had brewed distrust in the Lightbourne’s from the moment they’d heard them. 

Tales that had made up their minds long before Bellamy and Clarke had joined them at their table for the incredible spread.

“All we want,” Clarke defended, “is a second chance at peace. A place to live without fighting. A place to raise our families and grow old with the ones we love.” Her voice was thick with emotion and she wished now she hadn’t consumed so much wine already, as her head felt slightly foggy yet also surprisingly clear. It occurred to her she hadn’t had alcohol in over 120 years, was this really what drunk felt like? Either way the ambrosial nectar she’d been sipping from the chalice before her, which was again up to her lips, was definitely causing her to be  _ all _ Heart.

“With all due respect, Jordan’s stories are second hand retellings of a life he never experienced by his parents who glorified and glamorized the tales in many ways; manufactured them into homemade fairy tales and ghost stories,” Bellamy explained, hoping to support her claims. His hand reached for her thigh, squeezing it gently under the table, hoping to help her relax. He’d forgotten how thin the fabric of her dress was. It allowed him to almost feel her directly; the soft, smooth, warmth of her skin so evident that it felt as as if there were no fabric between them at all. 

Touching her like this almost derailed him completely, so he had to let go, lest he get off course. “I cannot deny that parts of his stories are true, but I can assure you, we are not those people anymore. Down on Earth, we had to do some unthinkable things to survive and some of it we are not proud of, that’s true. But that was the way of the world down there; it was not our nature. We were merely trying to survive. All we want, is exactly what Clarke said.” He reiterated, “A chance to start over. To be happy. To do _more_ than just survive. We want a chance to live in peace.”

Russell nodded thoughtfully across the table, studying them for a moment before turning to give a commiseratory look to his wife. Then, they each turned their attention back to their guests. “We believe you have pure intentions, we do.” He wore a pensive gaze, “Your sincerity would be apparent even if the wine you are drinking wasn’t made from a fruit that...encourages honesty,” He confessed, looking over at them to see their reactions. “But even beyond that, I feel that you  _ believe _ the words you speak, yet still I am left to wonder if you are capable of actually living them. If you are worth the risk.”

“We can help you, our people are smart, they’re hard workers, they-” Clarke’s budding monologue was interrupted by Simone.

“How did you get past the radiation shields, Clarke?” She inquired, raising a perfectly tweezed eyebrow at her. 

Maybe it  _ was _ the wine, or maybe it was that glint in Simone’s eyes that told Clarke she already knew how she’d gotten through but was testing her. She wasn’t sure how she knew exactly, just that she did. 

Maybe they had security cameras around the shield. Maybe there were more like her here. Maybe her people had told them when they’d asked, ratted her out to satisfy their own warped sense of justice against her. It didn’t matter how, she still knew somehow; a fact that caused Clarke to come out with it herself. “My blood is special. It makes me immune to radiation. I was able to pass through the shield unscathed and then use a fail safe code to get my people through.”

“Black blood?” Russell’s eyes seemed a lit with excitement. Clarke swallowed hard but nodded her confirmation, looking at him without reluctance, afraid to show any weakness. “Show me.” He said, rising from the table and grabbing a sharp knife from an unused place setting. He set it in front of her and her eyes met his with some trepidation before she clasped the knife’s handle anyway. 

Bellamy’s hand returned to rest against her thigh, but this time, he tightened his grasp there, his eyes full of worry and wonder. “ _ Clarke _ ,” He breathed quietly, eyes only on her.

“It’s okay,” She confirmed They could just tie her up and find out themselves if they wanted to, no point in trying to hide anything now. Picking up the knife, she turned her palm over slowly, sliding the sharp side against tip of her pointer finger until the skin broke, and then squeezing a few drops of black blood out onto the otherwise pristinely white napkin that had previously adorned her lap for the duration of the meal.

The Lightbourne’s eyes had gone wide with astonishment and then delight. Russell picked up another knife and in the same fashion, pricked his own finger, letting the blood drops fall onto his own plate; dark as night. “Here in Sanctum, black blood is royal; rare and elite.” His eyes were full of fascinated whimsy as he turned his attention to Bellamy, “Do you have it too?”

“No, it’s just Clarke.” He admitted, and that was still honest wasn’t it? “I’m afraid I bleed plebeian red.” 

“No one else in our arrival party has black blood.” She retorted, not missing a beat. “It’s why I was the only one who could pass through your radiation shields.” She provided.

“Your wife is quite special,” Russell turned his attention to Bellamy once more, “Here in Sanctum, black blood is considered elite given its incredible abilities, all of our Primes had black blood, but only some of their descendants do. It’s considered a great honor to bleed black. Is that why your people chose you as their leader?” He inquired, attention shifting to Clarke with his last question. 

Ignoring his wife comment completely, she responded with, “We lead together,” She cast her eyes towards Bellamy’s. “Always have.” 

“And your daughter, Madi, is it?” Simone pressed, wanting to know more. “Didn’t she inherit the blood of her mother?”

The wine may have suggested honesty and Clarke certainly felt a strong pull towards it now, but her head and heart knew how to work together when it came to Madi this time. “Our blood is not the same.” And as if to prove she were being entirely honest, she took another sip of wine. Let them think of that what they pleased; it  _ was _ the truth. Clarke’s nightblood was synthetic. Madi’s was natural. Fundamentally, they were not the same. 

“Pity.” Simone’s eyes tried to read hers for a hint of a lie but Clarke held her gaze strong and true. “Your royal blood does more to convince us to let you stay than any of your words can.” Simone admitted and Russell gave her a look that seemed full of warning. 

“What my wife means to say is, we have a newfound respect for you, Clarke. As we said, black blood is rare here and it means a lot to the people of Sanctum. We honor those who have the royal blood as we will honor you as our guest.” He nodded graciously. “Your people, they will need to prove they are worthy of this chance you have earned them. But you may stay, for now; but no others from your ship. Not yet at least.” He gave her a long look across the table, seeming to ignore Bellamy. “We will give your people places to stay and food to eat, but they will be ultimately responsible for earning their places here in our society. If they do not, they will be subject to the laws that have governed us for over a century; just as the rest of our citizens.”

“We cannot just say they will abide by yours laws and conventions if we do not even know what they are.” Clarke opposed politely.

Rising from the table, Russell strode to a nearby bookshelf, running his fingers over the many thick, cloth bound books that adorned them as he worked his way over to Clarke. “I will compile some things for you two. Read our history. Review our laws. Decide if this is the right place for your people.” Then, several guards entered the room, walking up behind them. “Until you decide, you will stay here and your people will remain at the tavern. You will be given the necessary comforts. But until you agree to our terms, you will all remain as our prisoners.” Before either of them might protest he pointed out, “I must protect my people from the unknown threats they may face, just as you are compelled to do.” Then with a twist of his wrist, the guards were pulling back their chairs, making it apparent they should stand. 

Before they could leave them like that, Clarke’s question burst out of her with displeasure.“What about my child? You expect me to leave her alone on a strange planet?” She couldn’t have even tried to fight the exasperation that brought those words to her lips; words that were not even slightly motivated by the truth-inducing wine, her chair shoving back louder than she’d intended.

“Moon,” Simone corrected, her voice pleasant enough before she added, “She is with your people. Do you not trust them to care for her?” The older woman asked with condemnatory intent, despite the sweetness of her tone.

Clarke knew her reaction would hold a lot of weight so she had to swallow down all of her instincts and trust that at least Gaia’s loyalty and Madi’s ability to defend herself would be enough to protect her in Clarke’s absence. “Of course I trust them. But she is my child and she needs me.”

“Then I suppose you will be encouraged to make your decision with haste.” Simone bit coldly and then, the Lightbourne’s exited the room.

As the guards came to surround them, Bellamy came immediately to her side, placing his hand on the small of her back as they were led from the room with two guards in front, two behind, and one on each side. They were taken down a long corridor, lined with extravagant looking lights that connected to another, even longer hall. Finally the guards halted, the first of them using a key to unlock the large, stone door in front of them before pushing it in with great effort. 

They all stepped to the side waiting for the pair to enter and once they had the door was shoved closed immediately; the sound of the lock clicking into place rather deafening for a moment. 

“I never should have left her…” Clarke haplessly banged her fists lightly against the door, still incessant in her need to protect her girl.

“Your mom, Gaia,  _ the others _ ; they’ll take care of her.” Bellamy assured, coming up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder to turn her around so they might look at one another.

She was far from convinced. “Most of them hate me, they know the worst way to hurt me is to hurt her and-”

“They will not use her against you; no matter how angry they are, Clarke!” His tone was more defiant now, but only as a means to convince her. He knew these people, they would never hurt a child just to spite Clarke no matter how mad they were.

“How can you know that?” She glared dubiously.

“Because I know  _ them _ . They are my family.” His words had meant to come as a confident affirmations, but they only made her feel farther away from him.

“You don’t have to remind me who your family is Bellamy, I’m well aware of the lengths you’d go to keep them safe.” Her eyes were cold when they met his and she walked away from him, further into the room. Afraid to make the situation worse by shoving his foot farther into his mouth, he returned to silence.

It was by far the nicest room she’d been held prisoner in lately, that was for sure. The walls were flanked with tables full of foods similar to the one’s they’d enjoyed in the Lightbourne’s dining room. Flagons of wine, juices, other spirits, and some fanciful goblets were amassed amongst the sweet and savory faires.

To the other side were two massive closets filled with many clothes and linens, more than any person would ever need; if you asked Clarke. In the middle of it all stood a large bed, covered in fine fabrics and pillows of various sizes and firmness. Perhaps under different circumstances, this place might feel like some sort of magical retreat. But alas, it was under these circumstances and it still felt like a cage keeping her from the person she loved most. The only person, she realized, she loved even close to the way she loved the one she was with now.

“There’s only one bed?” She processed the thought out loud before contemplating it to herself.

“You didn’t exactly correct him when he called you my wife.” Bellamy said pointedly, as if that were a reasonable enough answer to her apparent question.

“Neither did you.” She bit back, looking over her shoulder at him as he fought the inappropriate urge to smile.

“Seemed trivial at the time,” He shrugged and she nodded quickly in agreement. And perhaps that wasn’t the entire truth, but they’d both be content not to acknowledge that.

Sitting down in a chair by the tables of food and drink, she moved to take off her shoes which were pointed in ways that hurt her feet. Feet still blistered and battered from the multi-mile journey’s they’d both made over the past few days. “You’re bleeding,” His voice was laced with concern as he crossed over towards her, kneeling in front of her to examine her toes. They were an angry red color where Delilah’s pointy shoes had dug into them, tiny little cuts marring their surfaces as well.

“Beauty is pain,” She smirked, in spite of herself, stretching out her feet in front of her and wiggling her newly freed toes. “They’ll be fine in the morning,” She shrugged.

“The Lightbourne’s seemed weirdly obsessed with your black blood.” He noted, looking to her face to gauge her reaction.

“Yeah, they definitely want to harvest me for my organs.” She joked, but then, more seriously added. “They cannot find out about Madi, not until we know why they are so into the black blood, other than the obvious radiation benefits.” When he nodded his understanding, they both deemed it appropriate to drop the subject for now. Taking her time to rake her eyes over his body now, she asked; “How’s your leg?” Her hand moved instinctively to the spot where his injury was. Her touch was featherlight but still, he winced. “Let me look at it.” She demanded with serious eyes finding his.

“Clarke,” He began, knowing protests were of little to no use. Still he nervously added, “I’d have to take off my pants.” And for some reason that made him blush, even after all they’d been through together.

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be weird, I’m a medical professional... _ ish _ .” She shrugged, smiling at his discomfort briefly before adding, “My  _ mother _ has seen you without them on,” but then more seriously adding. “Come on, let me look at it, I’m worried about you and I’m the one who...” She trailed off, averting her eyes.

He sighed and then conceded, sitting down to unlace his own shoes, kicking out of them. Then he moved his hand to the button on his pants and she took a sharp, audible breath, despite her own words. “Don’t be weird,” He smirked as he mocked her previous statement, looking down at her as he rose, making it her turn to blush. She averted her eyes, undoing the button and then zipper, sliding them down on one side to reveal the badly bandaged wound, stained with blood. He sat back down and offered a small explanation, “Had to do it myself after the shower.”

The stitches were not Abby’s best work and they hadn't held up very well during their treks through the forest. His skin was red and purple around the wound and just holding her hand near it; she could feel the heat radiating off of it. “Oh,  _ Bellamy _ ,” She whispered with tearful remorse, her eyes unable to meet his. Without another word, she crossed over to the small door she correctly assumed contained the bathroom.

Finding a small bowl under the sink, she filled it with warm water before grabbing some soap and a few clean wash rags, returning to the table. “I’ll ask Russell for medical supplies in the morning to redo the stitches, but I can clean it and redress it with some of this fabric.” She motioned to the white rag and then picked it up, ripping it into thinner strips. 

As she set to work, he brought up the vignette he’d heard earlier. “Madi told me you stitched your own leg after it got caught in a bear trap using plant fibers;  _ all _ by yourself.  _ No _ pain relief, she was very proud of that part.” He recalled, studying her face for her reaction.

“Madi has a big mouth!” She laughed in spite of herself. “Remind me to stop leaving you two alone together.” She quipped, a small smile on her lips. “How did she even know about that? It was before she would even let me come within 100 feet of her before she was running away. That’s why I got caught in that damn bear trap anyway…” She was walking down memory lane now, which on made her heart clench more, missing Madi again; wondering if she was okay.

He leaned forward, pulling up her dress a little to look at her calves. The act took her enough by surprise that she momentarily forgot her anguish. His fingers trailed over the scars on her leg from where the metal had clamped down unyieldingly against it. His eyes flicked up to hers. “If you can do that with plant fibers, I guess I can trust you to fix mine,” He winked.

Rolling her eyes at him, she stood and crossed the room, eyeing the bottles of alcohol gathered on the center table, selecting a tall glass one, full of clear liquid. “Going to get me drunk first?” He goaded playfully, despite the circumstances.

She rolled her eyes again, but tilted her head slightly in thought. “Well, honestly, it might feel better if you do take a few swigs of this first,” She admitted, uncapping the bottle. “But alcohol is the best disinfectant I have available in this room and a clear one seems the most pure,” She noted, extending it to him. “It’s not gonna feel good though.” She explained, a hint of apology in her tone.

He took the bottle from her and took a few swigs, coughing at the harsh, bitter taste, but appreciating the warmth it sent through him as he handed her back the bottle. The relief was short lived when the same liquid came in contact with his aching leg and it took all he had not to cry out in pain. He gripped the sides of the chair, grunting through it. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I promise it’ll help.” She soothed in a whisper, leaning down and using her mouth to blow lightly over it. The area still seared with pain, but the spots that received the gentle flow of air felt some relief. When the initial, overwhelming pain had subsided, she continued; dipping a piece of the rag into the warm, lavender scented water mixture she’d created. Then, she began to brush it very gently around the spots where his broken skin had been first torn and then pulled back together by haphazard stitches. He winced again and her eyes found his with apology again.

“It’s okay,” He said, his had coming to grip her face familiarly. Her eyes fluttered briefly at the intimacy and then she shook his hand away and continued working. To distract herself she brought up something that had been gnawing at her, but something she truly had no business to bring up, but here she was anyway; she’d just blame it on the wine this time even though she’d already been completely obtrusive about similar topics before. “So, when we got to the tavern you and Echo….”

“ _ Clarke _ ,” But she didn’t look up, just kept working the rag around as delicately as she could, still kneeling in front of him. “It’s complicated. Her feelings for me aren’t just going to go away instantly. What am I supposed to-”

She stopped him there, “I know...I…” She shook her head at herself. “I know.” She reiterated and then, went back to work. Now, she was meticulously rolling the strip of fabric around his thigh to act like gauze until she could get something better.

She stayed quiet for awhile as she adjusted the fabric and didn’t dare look at him when she asked the next thing, hoping that honesty wine was still having looming affects on him too. “Are you really in love with me?”

He slipped two fingers under her chin and made her look at him before he’d answer. “Yes,” His voice was raw with emotion, he didn’t need any encouragement, liquid or otherwise, to admit that..

She looked at him for a couple pounding heartbeats; trying to convince herself to leave well enough alone. She wasn’t sure if she’d get to say it otherwise and he deserved to know, so she let the words tumble from her lips anyway. “I’m in love with you, too.” Her eyes brimmed with threatening tears that did not fall, as she held his gaze, and the look they shared allowed so much to be spoken silently between them.

Soon enough, she’d finished wrapping his leg and it wasn’t a moment too soon because just after he’d stood and refastened his pants, his strong arm was leaning down to snake around her, pulling her from her knees to come flush against him.

“Earlier, when we kissed…” He muttered, one hand on her cheek, the other sliding into her hair at the back of her neck; a position he really loved holding her in, he decided in that very moment.

“I know,” She shuddered at the memory and the closeness to him; the combination of the two oversensitizing her. “We could do it again,” She muttered, bringing her lips up towards his.

He hesitated. A dominating part of him wanted to, more than anything. But another part of him, despite how small, kept telling him he needed to officially end things with Echo first. Kissing her in the forest, it felt like an acceptable part of his time to think and figure things out. Kissing her again would feel like cheating, even if it wasn’t. He owed it not just to Echo to do this right, but to himself, and to Clarke as well. “We  _ shouldn’t _ ,” The words caused him more agony than his leg had all day, so did the act of turning his face away from hers.

“Why can she kiss you while you figure things out, but I can’t?” She asked daringly, her eyes darkening slightly with anger.

“She’s still my…” He closed his eyes, torn between not wanting to say the word and not wanting to hear her complete the sentence for him, but she’d make the choice for him.

“... _ girlfriend _ , right. Another fact I won’t soon forget.” She finished, darkly, the word dripping with the usual disgust that seemed to accompany it out of her mouth in reference to them. She pulled away from him, turning her back to him and walking over towards the bottles of wine.

“You  _ still  _ think this is easy for me? You  _ honestly _ think it’s not taking every bit of self control I have not to rip that pretty pink dress right off your perfect body and throw you on that bed?” His words  _ made _ her turn around and look into his eyes and she was clearly staggered by them. “You think it’s easy to stop myself from making love to you the way I…” He closed his eyes, he was venturing into dangerous territory again, he had to stop now.

Clarke swallowed hard, not sure what to do with all that she was feeling because of those words. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. “Bellamy,” His name was pliant sound; as if saying she was his, in any way he wanted her even if it  _ was _ wrong. “Finish the sentence,” She cleared her throat, her tone shifting to a challenging one.

He shook his head, “You already  _ know _ I want you,” He muttered, clearly anguished by that presently forbidden fantasy.

“Then have me,” She breathed, her hand coming to the strap on the right shoulder strap of her dress, letting it slide down aimlessly.

He shouldn’t look at her. Looking would make it so much harder to restrain himself and he knew he had to. “ _ Clarke _ ,” Her name came out with evident torment, taking her in for a few greedy seconds before forcing himself to turn away from the lustful temptation.

“What about what I want. What I  _ need _ ?” Her voice had desperation in it and she was suddenly glad he wasn’t looking at her. Still, she slid the strap back onto her shoulder where it belonged. “I haven’t been with anyone…” Her eyes rolled up in thought and she just shook her head, almost embarrassed. “It’s been a  _ long _ time,” She assured him. Her voice was raw with sentiment. “We could just...once…” She spoke to the back of his head, taking a couple abating steps towards him.

He didn’t dare turn around, “It wouldn’t be once.” He clenched his jaw; afflicted by her words in more ways than one. “ _ Couldn’t _ ,” He corrected himself. “That’s not all you are to me.”

She should’ve found his words romantic but they only rang through her as another form of rejection. “So, if you choose her, then we just never get to know what it’s like? You’re okay with that?” She asked, bitterly.

His only response was another agonized sigh, which was answer enough. 

With her own begrudging huff, she strode over to the bed, surveying the sleeping clothes left out for them. She picked up the pair clearly meant for a woman; loose fitting white pants and matching tank top. Anything would be better than this dress. This dress, that he’d said he wanted to _ rip off _ of her. This dress, that had felt like fire on her skin since he’d spoken those words. 

He still hadn’t turned around to look at her, so she moved in front of him; her back to him now. “Undo my dress.” She commanded, jutting her tailbone out slightly, revealing the complexly laced corset that was tied together neatly at her waist.

Her name seemed to cause him suffering this time,“ _ Clarke,” _ He was running out of restraint, truly he was. Why did she insist on torturing him.

“Relax, I’m not trying to seduce you,.” She stated harshly, “I just want to change into something more comfortable.” She brandished the clothes in her hands. “Madi and Gaia had to work together and they practically sewed me into this thing earlier and there is  _ no _ way I can get out of it myself.” And maybe if this tortured him a little bit to assist her with, she wouldn’t exactly be disappointed.

His normally deft fingers seemed to fumble with the ties, tugging at the knots with little aptitude. She could feel his breath on her neck as he pulled, finally undoing the neat bow that had held it all together there at the bottom dangerously close to the curve of her spine, a place he longed to touch. He plucked at the other pieces, loosening them as well, watching her visibly sigh her contentment at the freedom. “Thank you,” She whispered, surprised when she felt his hands slide up her back to her shoulders, his fingers slipping under the straps, whisking them down past her shoulders, letting them stop somewhere just above her elbows. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever…” He swallowed the rest of that less than innocent confession, bringing his hands back up to her newly bared shoulders. His eyes flicked up to her neck where he saw a small smudge of dark purple and all at once, the memory of what he’d done came back to him and he let go of her immediately, stepping away.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, more sad than she’d like to admit about the sudden distance between them; the change in proximity leaving her cold.

“Your bruises, I didn't notice them all night...I almost forgot…” He stammered, ashamed of himself.

“Delilah borrowed this stuff from her friend and lent it to me, it’s called concealer? It hides your imperfections, it’s make up.” She said easily, as if it were no big deal, just another of the things she’d covered herself with tonight to look presentable enough for a castle.

This time, he crossed over to the bowl of water, testing to see if it was still warm enough before dipping one piece of the rag into it. “C’mere.” He requested quietly. 

“Bellamy, don’t do this to yourself.” She sighed, but she walked towards him anyway.

“Clarke, please. I let you take care of mine...” He implored her with that benevolent reminder and that would be all it took to force her concession. She came directly in front of him, pulling the top of her dress down a little more so it wouldn’t get wet, but crossing her arms in front of her chest; mostly to preserve  _ his _ modesty more than her own. He worked the cloth over her skin and bit his lip softly as he watched goosebumps prickle her skin when this fingers brushed over it. He had to ignore the way that made him feel; he had a job to do; remove the concealer, check on her injuries.

To his horror, the bruises were darker and deeper than before. She’d kept them hidden most of the day with her jacket collar and tonight with Delilah’s fancy make up. But now, as he drug the wet cloth across her soft skin, washing away the makeup, he saw the reminders of his wrongdoings. “How bad does it hurt?”

She fired back quickly, her tone explicit, “Not as bad as your stab wound.” 

“It’s not a competition,” He assuaged, dropping the cloth and letting his fingers ghost over her skin. Then, he leaned in, feathering kisses against each bruise his fingers had left behind. There was nothing platonic about it, nor anything lustful. Just pure intimacy and unconstrained love.

“I’ve always loved seeing your freckles,” She said softly, her thumb coming to brush over a patch of them on his cheek affectionately when he had leaned his forehead against hers trying to convince himself to stop touching her. “But even though it covers them up a little; this facial hair is so…” Her eyes shined with sensual craving, “ _ sexy _ ,” The word came out as rasp and it almost undid him.

“Everything about you is sexy,” He practically groaned as he drew back, looking at her again. “I...shouldn’t have said that. I have to…” He shook his head. He didn’t know what the fuck to say for himself right now. “You should go change, like you said before. Then, we should sleep…” He motioned to the bed. “I can put some pillows and blankets on the floor-”

She scoffed at him, butting in before he could finish. “Don’t be a martyr, we can share the bed.” When he gave her a warning look, she raised her eyebrows empathically at him “Don’t worry, I can keep my hands to myself.” She needled.

“It’s not  _ you _ I’m worried about,” He muttered, eyes falling to her lips.

She let her gaze meet his, almost daringly before she digressed, retreating towards the bathroom to change. While she was hidden behind the door, he took the opportunity to follow suit, slipping out of the borrowed dress clothes; a pair of perfectly tailored charcoal gray pants and a crisp light blue button down shirt which he’d rolled to his elbows. He swapped them for the pair of loose fitting white garments left out for him, similar to the ones she reemerged wearing now.

She found him already sitting on the side of the bed he’d claimed for himself, still above the covers and resting with his legs stretched out in front of him, his arms folded behind his head. “This mattress is pretty satisfying.” He noted, patting the space next to himself for her to join. 

She moved with surprising trepidation, joining him on the bed but making sure to keep her distance as she laid down next to him. As soon as she was relaxing against the plush fabric, her body was ready to let sleep take her. She couldn’t remember a time she’d slept anywhere this soft. Despite the current state of affairs that had led her to being in this bed, she could swear she’d never been more comfortable in her entire life.

Turning on her side so that her back was to him, she pulled one of the teal colored pillows down, tucking it under her head and arm comfortably. “Goodnight, Bellamy.” She muttered quietly, tugging one of the blankets folded at the end the bed up to cover herself with.

As she closed her eyes she could feel him shift on the bed behind her and in an instant, he was closer to her. She could feel the heat from his hand as it hovered reluctantly above her hip, his mind caught in a debate of right and wrong. Then, all at once he seemed to make up his mind and his chest came to press against her back, his hand looping lazily over her waist. “Is this...okay?” He whispered, his lips by her ear.

She settled against him, not daring to open her eyes; afraid if she did she might realize she were dreaming or imagining this all. But the feel of his arms around her; of his breath warm against her neck, it was more real than anything she’d ever felt, Of that, she could be sure. “Of course,” She breathed out, barely audibly as she settled against him.

  
Correction,  _ now _ she was positive that she was more comfortable than she’d ever been in her entire existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review and/or kudos, validation is my love language!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like anytime I cry writing a chapter, it should come with a warning label so; you've been warned! Also thank you so much to anyone who has taken the time to leave a review, I adore reading your thoughts and reactions!

Neither of them got much sleep. Despite their exhaustion and aches, despite the lethargic effects of their wine consumption; there were presently too many unknowns and as people generally accustomed to existing in states of all consuming worry; sleep often felt unnatural. 

He had awoken first, startled to find how comfortable it felt to do so with her legs tangled between his, her face pressed to his chest, his arms heaped lazily around her. The guilt may not have gotten to him if he hadn’t relished in the arrangement for several long minutes before deciding it was wrong of him to enjoy such things. If he hadn’t pulled her a little tighter against him when she shifted slightly. If he hadn’t fused his palm to the warm exposed skin on her back and let his lips press tenderly to her shoulder. 

Accordingly, he’d untangled himself from her and slipped out of the bed as stealthily as possible, trying his best not to wake or disturb her. It broke his heart a little the way she seemed to reach out for him, even when she was still consumed by sleep. He settled a pillow next to her, still warm from his use, and she’d quickly buried her face into it and resumed her restful state.

Sighing, he walked across the room, pouring himself a glass of water from a small pitcher, taking a long contemplative sip before sitting down in a chair, facing the bed. He sighed quietly, trying to figure out how to handle all that was currently piled upon his shoulders.  _ Their _ shoulders. 

They had to find a way to keep their people safe, that was the most important thing and the other pieces had to wait until after. Ending things with Echo, figuring out things with Clarke; they had to sit on the backburner for now and he needed to stop letting himself get caught up in carnal desires like the ones he’d had for her since last night. 

Her dress was draped on the chair adjacent from him and he couldn’t help but reach out and pick it up, grasping the light, textured fabric in his hands. Maybe if they’d been born a few hundred years ago; she’d have been the type of girl who wore dresses like this all the time. He’d have been the kind of boy who’d have willingly volunteered to help her out of them anytime she wanted. But alas, they existed now and times weren’t simple, not at all. 

How many hours had it been since they’d fallen asleep? Or maybe a better question, since they’d arrived in this place. His body seemed to no longer know how to process or understand the passage of time; not when it had defied it for so many years. All he knew was, he felt the same need for her now as he had when he’d first seen her in that dress and he felt now more than ever compelled to act on these desires.

Setting the dress back down, he felt himself rise from the chair and before he could stop himself, he was moving towards her side of the bed. “ _ Clarke _ ,” Her name came out hoarse, but the mere utterance had her waking immediately. Eyes snapping open, she moved to sit.

“What’s wrong?” Though her voice was thick with sleep, the question came out lucidly. She blinked, hoping to let her eyes adjust to the relative darkness. 

“No, no; nothing’s wrong.” He replied quietly, his tempered tone mean to soothe as he moved so he was sitting down on the bed next to her.

“Then, what is it Bell?” She asked softly, concern still wrought into her brow as she reached for his hands.

“I just…” He hadn’t really had a plan for waking her up, he realized. Maybe that was for the best. Fuck letting his head figure things out, she’d always told him his heart was the most amazing thing about him. Before he could overanalyze it anymore, he just acted. He moved closer to her, his hands dropping hers and moving to cup her face instead, drawing it towards his own. “...want you.” 

Any sense of reservation would leave him as soon as the softly whimpered moan had left her lips. He pressed his mouth to hers with passionate longing, their tongues dancing together with unfounded familiarity. She rose up to her knees, the blanket falling from her lap to pool in front of her. His hand snaked around her waist then, pulling her body against his, her parted legs coming to rest on either side of his lap. 

It was an out of body experience, him wanting her like this; touching her in this way. His hands grasped greedily at her hips, his lips leaving hers in order to press hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses in a trail down her neck and up the other side. “Bellamy,” She bit down hard on her lip to stifle the brewing moan, acutely aware of the goosebumps that pricked her skin like a trail of breadcrumbs left behind in the wake of his fingertips’ northward adventures up her bare skin underneath the thin fabric of her tank top. They should not be doing this. He knew it. She knew. Neither of them seemed to care in this moment and that was extremely dangerous. She tilted her head back, her chest heaving up to press to his wantonly. She couldn’t stop the next moan that slipped from her lips before she might press them into a thin line that would barricade it within her. That moan revealed all her desires to him, made clear that they were as primal as his own. She was disappointed though, when her finger tips slid into the waistband of his pants, his hand came up to stop hers and she let out a frustrated groan. “Don’t start something you aren’t going to finish.” She warned, her voice husky with need.

Four pieces of clothing. They were all that separated them from total closeness; from giving in to lecherous need. He wanted to rid her of hers, desperately. As evidence of this, his hands had come to the hem of her shirt and they were dangerously close to tugging it over her head and he knew that if he did that, however small the act might seem, there would be no turning back. He would not stop until he had all of her. He balled the fabric in his fist, twisting it in a way that caused the thin white cloth to pull tighter around her chest, making her impossibly more enticing. “Fucking hell, Clarke.” He grunted his frustrations, his forehead coming to rest against hers, his eyes feasting on the newly exposed flesh below him shamelessly. The agonizing torture he felt over this was palpable, it almost made her pity him.  _ Almost _ . 

“ _ You _ woke  _ me _ .” She breathed out with annoyance, keenly aware of just how much power she held in this domineering position she was in, straddling his lap. A few gentle rocks of her hips and she knew he’d be powerless to her. She knew also, more naggingly, he’d hate himself for it after; no matter how right it might feel in the moment. As long as it had been. As much as she needed this. It couldn’t be like this.

She granted herself one more longing kiss, her lips overtaking his ravenously, her fingers tangling into his dark, luscious curls. “This is the  _ last _ time I am showing restraint.” She stated plainly, once she’d forced herself to break that incredible kiss. The kiss she could still feel lingering on her swollen lips. “The next time you give in to your weaknesses, I am giving in to mine and I don’t care if you hate us both for it afterwards.” She said, her tone smug as she pushed her body away from his, rising from the bed and walking in to the bathroom. Putting physical space between them was the only way to harness what little self control she had left.

 

*************************************

 

By the time she came back out, he’d fallen back asleep, or at least done her the courtesy of pretending he had. She couldn’t sleep even if she’d tried, not right now. Not when her skin was still buzzing from the places his fingers had raked over it. Not when her lips felt soft and puffy and longed to feel his against them again. Not when her mouth watered at the sight of him.  

Walking back into the room, she took one look at him and knew it was far too much temptation to not slide into bed next to him and pick up where they’d left off. No, that was not an option. She needed a distraction. 

Crossing the room, she surveyed a table shoved against the wall, littered with miscellaneous things; amongst them paper, and some pencils and pens. She grabbed one of each, and a sturdy looking book that had been stacked next to the table on the floor, and made her way back to the bed. Easing herself onto the opposite end quietly, she leaned against one of the four posters that composed the bed frame. She brought her knees up, setting the book on them and the paper on top of it before breathing out quietly and starting to sketch.

Drawing from memory was different from having a real live model. She’d relied on her recollections of his face when she’d drawn him into her sketchbook in Shallow Valley. Those versions of him were so different than the man who laid in the bed before her now. As she sketched the jutting outline of his jaw, she couldn’t help but pepper freckles in places she knew she’d end up covering with facial hair anyway; she’d know they were there. That would be enough. She drew every detail of him until her eyes grew heavy; her vision hazy. Then she’d turned the paper face down and climbed under the covers, letting sleep consume her. 

The next time they woke, it was to the sound of the door of their room being unlocked and heaved open. Bellamy shifted his body protectively in front of hers, narrowing his eyes at the offending sound. 

A young woman pushed a cart topped with two covered plates, presumably of breakfast, as well as a tea kettle and some mugs. When it looked like she was going to leave without saying anything, Clarke jumped up off the bed and rushed to the door, stopping her. Stepping in front of the woman, blocking her exit, Clarke narrowed her eyes. “Where is Mr. Lightbourne?”

“I...don’t know, miss.” The woman stammered, fear in her eyes as Clarke studied her harshly. “I just work in the kitchens.” She defended

“I need to speak to him. Immediately.” She replied, her eyes full of challenge. “I need a med kit.” She added more urgently, and when she saw a look of understanding crest the woman’s features, she backed off slightly.

“I will pass along your message, that’s all I can do.” She nodded curtly and as soon as Clarke had shifted for her to pass, she exited the room.

It took some time, but after awhile the door of the room was opening again and Russell appeared. “Sorry, we had an incident to deal with late last night but, everything is being handled and will be resolved soon. Please follow me, I’ll show you to the library and-”

“When can I see my child?” Clarke interrupted. “And do you have the med kit I requested?” She asked, crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

“You seem upset, but we have treated you with nothing but kindness so it reads as ungratefulness instead.” His tone was rather nonchalant with that accusation. “But yes, the med kit is in the library waiting for you.”

“And my child?”

“As we told you, when you agree to our terms, we will let you see the girl. Until then, she will remain with your people.” He spoke dismissively, clearly ready to drop the subject she insisted on pursuing. 

“Do you have any children, Mr. Lightbourne?” Clarke inquired.

“I had a daughter, but she died. Losing her was the most unbearable pain I could imagine...” He looked away from her and it appeared she’d struck a chord. “So while I do sympathize with your love for Madi; of your want and will to do anything for…” He trailed off and looked up as if suddenly realizing something. Whatever it was, it was enough to make him stop for a moment his pupils dilating as they darted around in thought before settling on Clarke, a forced smile playing at his lips. “You will see her tonight. Change into any of the clothes you like in the closet and then knock on the door, the guards will lead you to the library.”

 

**************************

 

After the guards had them escorted to the library room, they sat at a table full of volumes that had been pulled for their review. They’d expected Russell to meet them here, but when he was nowhere to be found, they were left to dig in on their own. They held off on their research until after Clarke had used the suture kit they’d provided to patch Bellamy up. She’d nestled herself between his legs to set to work lovingly, clipping the stitches her mother had messily sewn into his leg in order to replace them with her own more precise handiwork. When she’d finished, she leaned forward littering the flesh around his wound with soft kisses the way he had to her bruises the day before. 

Deciding to divide and conquer, they’d each taken their own stack of resources to peruse. Sitting across from one another at the table, they’d occasionally pipe up to share an interesting fact or anecdote they’d learned with the other. However, when Clarke had gotten to a particular reference book, entitled  _ The History of Naming Day _ , her entire mood seemed to shift. She got up from the table, crossing to a chair as far away from him as possible near to the window, and consumed each word. She seemed completely enthralled by the content, but when he’d come to look at it over her shoulder she’d shifted it away from him, trapping the text against her chest. “What?” She asked, her eyes darting to his guiltily before avoiding them completely.

“You tell me?” He responded, confused by her suddenly odd behavior and growing concerned by the shift in atmosphere it caused as a result. 

“ _ Nothing _ , I just don’t want you reading over my shoulder.” She said, a little too defensively.

The door opening was a welcome distraction, Bellamy turned his attention to it and Clarke took the opportunity to tuck the book she’d been reading to the bottom of the stack as Russell, flanked by a couple guards, entered the room hastily. “Come with me at once,” His voice was harsher than she’d heard it in the time they’d spent together, though brief it may have been. Something was wrong, she could tell.

“Our people?” She asked, rising from the chair, not daring to look at Bellamy; knowing the worry written into his face would only cause her anxiety to worsen. “Are they okay?”

Russell gave a snide laugh, “Are they okay?” His eyes narrowed at her. “Your people are murderous narcissists! I should’ve known better than to give them a chance, but I am going to teach them all a lesson. And you,” His eyes flashed with rage. “follow me. You will see how we administer justice here in Sanctum.”

The guards came beside them each, grabbing onto their biceps more roughly than was necessary to lead them from the room to follow behind Russell.

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a look of worry and fear; the unknowns surrounding them now threatening to suffocate them completely. As they followed Russell towards the main entrance, Clarke had to shield her eyes as the doors opened, bathing them in the light of two suns.

There on the landing atop the steps, she saw all of their people gathered to the left. Madi’s eyes widened when she saw her, as if she may run to greet her, but Clarke shook her head no; thinking better of it. Many residents of Sanctum had accumulated behind them, below the steps. Clearly there to garner more information about what had taken place; to see firsthand whatever sentence their indomitable leader was going to pass down.

“Bring them forward,” Russell commanded, Simone stepping up to join him at his side, looping her arms around one of his. 

A pair of guards followed his instructions, surrounding the two missing members of their group; Octavia and Diyoza, pushing both women down onto their knees in front of Russell. Bellamy’s eyes flashed with anguish as he looked at Octavia; she was stone cold and harsh looking, not an ounce of remorse expressed on her face.

“Hey, come on, not so rough; she’s  _ pregnant _ !” Clarke’s tone was warning as she stepped forward, not liking the way the guard’s pointed spear was dangerously close to jabbing Diyoza’s neck. “What is the meaning of all this?” She asked, probably with more strength than she should given her current prospects. Yet, somehow she just  _ knew _ that her black blood was enough to make him incapable of really hurting her and she needed to use that to her advantage right now.

“Clarke,” Russell’s eyes narrowed at her. “These women murdered six of our men, in cold blood! Unprovoked. Justice must be served.”

Octavia scoffed and then laughed at Russell’s statement, as if to show how ludicrous it was. “Unprovoked?” She shook her head with a glare.

“Silence!” The older man boomed, and Clarke gave Octavia a pleading look, she didn’t need her making it worse.

“I have to believe my people would not just attack your men; not without good reason. Not knowing all we stood to lose, please let Octavia tell me her side of the story-”

“They were trying to kill Madi!” Octavia shouted the words out before she may be kept silent any longer, before waiting for anyone’s permission. These were not her people. These were not her rules. Her action resulted in a strong hand coming to land across her face, sending her staggering forward.

Bellamy reacted immediately, fists clenching by his sides as he glared at the guard who had just backhanded his sister, lurching forward as if to make him pay. “Bell,” Clarke breathed softly, warningly, her eyes showing him she would handle this; her hand resting on his chest briefly before her attention went back to Sanctum’s leader. “Do not allow any of your men to ever touch her like that again or you will learn why they call me Wanheda.” She warned, her eyes on Russell’s once again; full of challenge. When he didn’t say anything, she took that as silent agreement. Walking past him with her eyes still locked on his, she kneeled in front of Octavia, “What do you mean they were trying to kill Madi?” She asked quietly, her eyes full of sheer panic and worry; and also some gratitude.

“They came in the tavern and two of them grabbed her, a third one came at her with a knife…” Octavia’s eyes narrowed at the memory while Clarke’s widened in horror as she heard about it for the first time. “I didn’t think, I just acted.” She shrugged unapologetically. “After I took out the first three, three more came at us. One grabbed me from behind and that’s when Diyoza got involved. She stabbed the guy on my back with a broken bottle while I choked the other. The sixth guy came for Madi and Dioyza snapped his neck before he had the chance. The seventh guy was smart enough to run away like a coward.” Her eyes flashed up to the man who had struck her across the face and Clarke put two and two together.

Growing angrier by the second, she listened intently to her love’s sister and when she finished, her hands hung at her sides, her nails boring crescent shaped cuts into her palm. “Did you know all of that when you brought them out here to deliver your justice?” Clarke asked, turning back to look at Russell, trying to keep her face stony rather than full of the emotion she felt. 

“The men were not going to harm your child, they have no reason to-”

“Octavia said they came at her with a knife, do you deny it? Because she has no reason to lie about this.”

Simone spoke before Russell could, “They were acting under my orders.” The words slipped plainly from her mouth, as if they should be obvious. “I simply wanted to see if you were lying about the girl’s blood.”

“You  _ bitch _ ,” Her accusing words were met with a collective gasp from the people of Sanctum, but Clarke barely registered their shock; lunging at her before her head could tell her not to. 

Thankfully, Bellamy was there to stop her, his hands grasping her hip and shoulder respectively, pulling her back. “They’ll kill you!” He hissed into her hair, his arms moving to wrap around her chest to still her there, lest she do something that may get her shot or speared.

Clarke was beyond reason; Simone had tried to hurt Madi. She could see nothing else but that. “You made me leave her there so you could do exactly this...you convinced me it would be okay because my people would protect her and when they did exactly that you bring them here and treat them like…” Her eyes brimmed with tears but she couldn’t cry, not here; not like this. She dismissed Simone with one look and turned to her husband instead.  “Your men brought harm to my child; at the direction of your wife. Where is the justice for that?” She demanded.

Russell looked between the women trying to figure out a way to dissipate the mounting stresses. “Emotions are high.” His voice was once again levelled with the influential calm it usually bore. “We cannot allow such negativity to perpetuate on Delilah’s Naming Day. Not on a day meant for redemption and retribution. For celebration,” He clasped his hands together and Simone still narrowed her eyes.

“Russell, these women are murderers they must be dealt with-”

“Simone, my love.” Russell’s voice may have remained airy, but the look he gave her was anything but light in nature. “They will be dealt with.  _ Later _ . For now, they will be sent to the dungeons,” He nodded towards the guards, “Clarke and I will discuss-”

“They should be cast outside the shield, what is there to discuss?” Simone’s voice was incredulous as she interjected abruptly, in the middle of his diatribe. 

“Do not interrupt or attempt to correct me again,” He warned his wife, and glaring down at her was enough to make her nod in quiet acknowledgement. When he leaned forward and whispered something into her ear, Clarke noticed the look of understanding that passed through her eyes; there was something sinister about it. When her husband drew back from her, she seemed to cast her eyes down in shame.

“Clarke, come with me. We will work out a...diplomatic solution for all of this.” Russell offered her his arm and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Bellamy,” She nodded her head back towards him as if to summon him forward as well. 

“No,” Russell shook his head. “Just  _ you _ this time.” He insisted, studying her.

Bellamy had remained quiet through most of this, trying his best to be observational and provide Clarke backup as needed. The Lightbourne’s fascination with her hadn’t gone unnoticed by either one of them last night and he was on high alert ever since. He felt completely uneasy about all of this, but still, he knew letting her take point was probably for the best. He just hoped the others would see that as well. He was certainly curious to discover the reason for Russell’s change of heart, but it wasn’t unexpected. The people here were fanatical and her black blood had made her special to their mythology. Whatever his motivations were; they were tied directly to Clarke.

“We lead  _ together _ , we already told you that.” Clarke reiterated, shaking her head in objection to his proposal, she extended her hand towards Bellamy beckoning him to her again, as if to defy Russell’s request. Her taller, dark haired companion approached anyway, standing next to her dauntingly, yet reluctant.

“I thought one of you might want to stay with the girl,” He motioned towards Madi, and though those words may have seemed sentimental, there was something formidable about them too. They made the hairs on the blonde’s neck stand up. “The matters we need to discuss are not ones he can understand,” He added, dropping his voice more quietly now. Then, more loudly and directing his words towards Bellamy he asked, “Do you not trust her to speak for you both? Is she not capable of making decisions for your people on her own?”

“She is.” Bellamy said, with a clenched jaw, his glassy eyes coming to meet Clarke’s stony ones. He didn’t have a good feeling about this and from the look on her face she didn’t either, but what other option did they have? He came forward, wrapping his arms around her to hug her. “Be careful.” He whispered, pressing his lips against the side of her head. “Clarke we can’t let him hurt O-“

“I know,” She soothed, her fingers brushing into the patch of hair at the nape of his neck. “I won’t let them, I promise.” She ducked her head down, pressing her forehead to his chest. “I love you.” She whispered almost inaudibly. 

“I love you too,” Came his immediate response, fighting the urge to kiss her. “Hurry back.” His request was a begging one, but full of hope still. 

“Very well,” The opposing leader seemed rather pleased with himself and he clasped his hands together once again, his eyes finding Clarke’s expectantly after she’d released Bellamy and stepped away from him slightly. “Shall we?” 

“I’m going to speak to my daughter first.” She said plainly, her eyes finding Russell’s with emphatic challenge before she walked towards Madi who broke out into a sprint when Clarke was close enough, crashing into her to hug her. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” She asked softly, her hands coming to cup the girl’s face and study it.

“I’m okay,” Madi promised, nodding vigorously. “Octavia and Diyoza protected me, just like she said.” She promised, burying her face into Clarke’s chest. “I was so worried about you. The Flame, it keeps telling me I need to protect you. I don’t trust these people Clarke. I think we should leave. I don’t think you should go with that creepy man…” Madi eyed Russell over Clarke’s shoulder and shivered slightly. “The Commanders think that-”

“Madi,” Clarke kissed her forehead. “This world does not believe in the way of The Commanders. Even if I agree with their advice, I probably can’t take it.” She looked around them, “We can’t leave, baby girl. This moon is our only chance. We are on  _ their _ turf now. We’re playing by their rules. I don’t like this either, okay? But I have to do what I can to help Octavia and Diyoza. They won’t survive outside the radiation shield and I can’t let them be cast out, especially not when they were doing what they did to protect you when I couldn’t.” They shared a meaningful look of understanding and she knew that even if neither of them liked the predicament she found herself in, at least they could accept it. 

“I love you, Clarke.” Madi whispered, hugging her tightly once more. 

“I love you too, so much sweet girl.” She replied, trying her best to keep a brave face, though her bottom lip did quiver slightly. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Stay with Bellamy,” She said, maybe with a little too much confidence given all the unknowns. Then she released her and walked towards Russell, making it apparent she had no interest in taking the arm he once again offered her.

 

*******************************

 

When she met back up with them in the tavern hours later, she was different, but doing her best not to be. Her conversation with Russell had given her so much to think about and she’d spent at least two hours alone in the bedroom she’d shared with Bellamy the night before; finishing her sketch as she thought all of the demands of their new deal through. When she’d finally come to her decision, she’d made herself shake his hand before consulting any one else about it. She knew if she had, they’d have talked her out of it. Then, she’d gone back to that room, crawled into the bed with the pillows that still smelled like him; and she cried her heart out.

She was doing what had to be done to give them the best chance.

To save them all.

Again.

“Clarke!” Madi was so happy to see her, that Clarke felt compelled to force out her own smile as not to ruin the moment. “What took you so long? The guards let us all go a couple hours ago and I was looking everywhere for you!” She hugged her happily again. “What did you do to fix everything?” She asked, her eyes shining with pride as she let go of her and tried to look into Clarke’s eyes.

She avoided the eye contact immediately. “We will talk about all of that later, let’s just enjoy Delilah’s Naming Day celebration. I grabbed some clothes from the castle that might fit you and they let me take them, if you want to try any-”

Madi’s pupil’s grew, “Dresses?” She grinned happily, more excitedly than either of them may have expected her to be. Her eyes took in the bag of clothing in Clarke’s hands hungrily. “I want to try on everything!” She beamed. “Thank you!” She added, leaning in to hug her again.

“Did they show you to your room yet? She asked, shifting her weight to her other leg. She’d meant to say  _ our _ but she hoped Madi wouldn’t notice. 

She didn’t seem to. “Yeah, we’re staying in a little apartment right next to this tavern, actually.” Madi brandished the key that was tethered to her wrist by a thin black band. “Number 808.” She added, taking the bag from Clarke’s hands. “Can we go try them on now?”

“Actually, I need to take care of a couple of things first, little one.” She said resignedly. “Why don’t you head over and I’ll meet you up there in a few, sound like a plan?” Clarke suggested with a smile, which garnered instant agreement from the younger girl. It felt almost bittersweet, watching as Madi practically skipped out of the tavern; it made Clarke’s heart clench in more ways than one.

 

********************************

 

Paper lanterns. 

You were supposed to write your greatest regret on a piece of paper and tie it to the top; let it carry your sins away as they floated off into the night sky. 

Bellamy didn’t buy into any of it. It wasn’t that easy to let go of your sins. They tended to haunt you forever no matter how many times you tried to seek absolution for them; at least in his experience. Still, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flick over the tables full of lanterns and read over the snippets of people’s deepest revelations. It felt sort of dirty, but he couldn’t help himself, he’d always been fascinated by the inner workings of the human mind. It was harmless, mostly. He didn’t know these people; didn’t know whose deep regrets belonged to whom so it didn’t feel like he was violating anything sacred, even if he was.

That was, until he saw a tie on a lantern, with a message scrawled in handwriting he recognized instantly. Handwriting he’d seen write 99 names down on a piece of parchment; where he’d written her own down as the 100th without any hesitation. Handwriting he could never forget. 

Clarke’s handwriting.

 

He knew he shouldn’t, but he picked it up and read it anyway.

 

_ Leaving my family _

 

Three simple words that held so much meaning. They made his heart clench; his stomach dropping with a sick feeling. 

“Bellamy?” For a second, he thought he might’ve imagined her voice, but he turned around and saw her there and he knew he was caught. He set the lantern back down and looked at her regretfully.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you saw it,” She rasped, stepping towards him. “Leaving you in Polis...to die. That was inexcusable. But it wasn’t the first time I left you, was it? Or even the second?” She asked quietly, her eyes casting down. “For the record, it never gets any easier.” Her voice seemed to quiver.

“Clarke?” He could sense there was something more she wasn’t letting on. What was she not telling him? “What’s going on?” He asked, his tone laced with concern.

She couldn’t look at him, he’d see right through her. “Being in love with you, not being able to have you has been some of the most excruciating pain I have ever felt.” She shrugged. “But I did a lot of thinking today and I realized…” She took a ragged breath because she knew the next words out of her mouth would be a complete lie but she needed him to believe them like they were her absolute truth. “Our time has passed. It’s my fault. Well, maybe we can use Praimfaya as a scapegoat instead.” She shrugged again, not wanting to go off on a tangent, lest it make her lose her nerve. She cut to the chase, “Look, none of that matters. What does matter; what I’m trying to say is that...you should stay with Echo.” The words felt acidic as they left her tongue. “You’re good for each other. She is in love with you. She’s dedicated to you. She would do anything for you.” She lamented, swallowing hard. “I can’t give you…” was there any use perpetuating her charade, one glance at his face told her he wasn’t buying what she was selling no matter how much conviction she put behind them. “I don’t want to pursue anything between us. Not ever.” The tears that slipped silently down her cheeks betrayed her, but she carried on. “So don’t ruin what you have with her to pine over me. It will be for nothing.“ Her tone was so cold it made her shiver, and she knew that they sounded like the words of an angry teenager more than those of a woman who’d actually believed what she said.

“Clarke?” Her words took him aback, that was true. But he didn’t believe them, not for a second. Something was wrong; that was clear. Something she didn’t want him to know. Something she wanted to cut ties with him over; that she thought saying all of that to him would somehow make it easier for her to do what had to be done. “What is going on, talk to me. Don’t shut me out.” He pleaded in exasperation. 

She couldn’t tell him. If she did; if she gave him even an  _ inkling _ of what the Lightbourne’s had proposed, he would try to talk her out of it. But it would be for his own selfish reasons; not for the good of their people and that was why she had to do this; on her own. “I have to go.” She said flatly, then more ruefully she added, “We should have made love last night,” She blinked away her regret leaning up to kiss his cheek definitively. “Take care of her for me. Take care of them all.” She added, her eyes brimming with tears but she turned and bolted away before he might stop her. 

 

*************************

 

He wished he’d read  _ anything _ about Naming Day when they were finding out more about this place. He still wasn’t even sure exactly what kind of deal Clarke had worked out with Russell and they hadn’t exchanged any words beyond their brief conversation at the tavern. Words that had left him completely uneasy and desperate for further explanation from her.

He hadn’t been able to track her down since, even when he’d gone to the apartment she and Madi had been assigned to for the time being, which was right above his. He’d turned over her quiet confessions in his mind several times since she’d left him standing in that tavern. While he wasn’t sure what to make of them, he knew they unsettled him for a very real reason and that was enough for him. He was desperate to know what had transpired with the Lightbournes; desperate to be privy to all she wasn’t sharing with him yet. Desperate to protect her from whatever it was that troubled her so.

By the time night was falling, horns were sounding indicating that the ceremonial part of this seemingly sacred event was ready to begin. He watched as people trickled out of the many establishments that had been previously bustling merrily with life; to congregate in the same place they had earlier that day, when it had been for a less celebratory reason. With an almost tangible unease, he joined the throng of passersby and followed them up the path towards the castle.

He made his way towards the front, spying Jordan locked in a very affectionate embrace with Delilah. For someone who’d basically flubbed his first ever time introducing himself to people he wasn’t related to, he sure seemed pretty adept at socialization now. Bellamy chuckled to himself, coming to stand behind them.

Madi was already there, and he smiled again to himself, in spite of all his building worries. She looked so different with her hair completely down, wearing a dark blue dress. She looked young and like the child she actually was, for a change. She was adorable; it made his heart flutter with adoration. It also made him long for Clarke’s dream life even more. The thoughts had him searching around for the woman he loved, expecting to find her around the younger girl, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Sensing his unease, Madi approached him with the same sense of wonder, “Have you seen Clarke?” She asked, suspicious.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He replied gently, trying to keep the worry out of his tone. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” He added, hoping he was convincing her more than he’d managed to convince himself.

They wouldn’t be able to discuss the matter further because the castle doors were opening and the Lightbournes and what Bellamy assumed were the other Primes came striding out of them with great confidence. The people amassed around them burst into cheers and applause. “Today we celebrate the Naming Day of Priyah the 7th!” Russell’s voice boomed over the fanfare, settling it to a hush. 

Bellamy looked around uneasily as the people of Sanctum chanted, “Hallowed be her name,” in perfect unison. 

“But that is not all we celebrate.” Russell’s grin widened and the castle doors opened again. This time, Clarke walked out wearing a floor length blue dress; a shade or two lighter than the one Madi wore. 

Perhaps more surprising, was that Octavia and Diyoza followed behind her, hands bound loosely with rope.  “We have been given a chance. An opportunity.” He beckoned towards Clarke who walked slowly towards him. “The last people of Earth have done us harm, it’s true. We buried six good, strong men today at the hands of two of their people.” He motioned to the guards who walked towards the pair of women, handling them much more gently than before. They brought them forward. “Today is a day of redemption. Their leader, Clarke Griffin has agreed to atone for them. For all of her people.” He waved his hand and the guards cut the ties around the women’s wrists and led them towards where the rest of their people were gathered. Sounds of dissent emitted from the crowd of Sanctum natives only briefly before Russell raised one hand and the noises ceased immediately.

“When we found these last people of Earth upon our sacred homeland, many of us were rightfully scared and felt great trepidation about what their sudden appearance here might mean for us. Myself included.” He spoke wisely, the people hanging on his every word. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Bellamy that Clarke hadn’t looked at him or Madi, not even once since she’d come out of those heavy doors. She’d just stared straight ahead, her eyes seemingly fixed on some faraway point. It made his worry grow; his heart sinking further. 

“After speaking with Clarke at great lengths, we agreed that her people do not belong here with us.” More collective gasps and whispers choursed; this time from their people as well. Ignoring them all, he kept talking which quieted everyone eventually. “They have their own rules and customs instilled in them, that would be hard to change and how could we expect them to? However, we know that outside of the shield, their chance for survival is slim. Which is why, I have agreed to let them explore the northwestern quadrant, to create their own territory there where they may live freely the lives they choose for themselves. They will live amongst us for six months, amass the resources they need as exploratory teams head out to the territory to decide where to build. After that, they will leave our land peacefully and we shall coexist in the last known human sanctuary, for the good of humankind.”

He let his words sink in over all the groups. The people of Sanctum whispered quietly amongst each other, transmitting the message back towards those too far away to hear.

Bellamy’s heart was thumping rapidly against his chest. What had Clarke done to arrange something so... _ perfect _ ? Whatever it was, it had to have come at a great cost. He looked around at the people around him, hugging and smiling; blissfully ignorant. People who had, just hours before, been happy to lob shame and insults at her given any opportunity. Now, they relished in whatever she’d done for them without taking even a second to question what the cost of it might be. 

Madi tucked herself against his side nervously. “Something isn’t right,” She whispered, corroborating his looming suspicions. He drew his arm around her shoulders protectively, Echo standing behind him, staring intently. 

When sounds of question and protest started to come from the riled crowd behind them, Bellamy turned to look only briefly before focusing his attention back onto Russell and the almost smug look on his face. “Clarke Griffin has black blood.” The pronouncement silenced them all instantly and their dissent was almost instantaneously replaced with reverence. “Through her sacrifice, we will once again know our beloved Josephine.” The crowd erupted in cheers and sing-song voices cooed out ‘hallowed be her names’ again.

Clarke was still fixing her eyes on that faraway point, not daring to look in their direction at all. Bellamy thought he might throw up. Even not knowing what any of that meant, he  _ knew _ it was bad. “What does that mean, Bellamy?” Madi inquired, her pupils dilated with anxiety.

“I don’t know, Madi” He whispered, hugging her against his side just a little tighter.

“Say your goodbyes,” Russell commanded, clasping his hands together happily.

Delilah ran to Jordan, throwing her arms around his shoulders before drawing back to kiss him passionately.

Clarke walked with slow purposefulness over towards them and she could hardly stand the questioning, worried looks they both wore. “Say your goodbyes?” She was incredulous, looking up at the slightly older woman. “What does it mean?” Madi repeated her question to Clarke, her eyes welling up. 

“It is so hard to explain,” Clarke began, her voice betraying her as it wavered instantly. “It’s what I have to do. To keep you safe. To give you the best life possible. All of you.” She drew her eyes to his for a moment but looked away almost instantly; it was too much; she couldn’t look either of them in the eyes. “I wish there was another way. But I love you so, so much.” She moved Madi’s hair behind her shoulders. “You look so beautiful, sweet girl. I hope I always remember you like this.” She said, the tears in her eyes deceiving her confident air. “I love you so much. More than I ever thought I would love anyone. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.” A few more tears slipped from her eyes and she reached up to brush them away. “I would get stuck in a hundred more bear traps, just to spend one minute of our time together, do you hear me?” She took a ragged breath. “Bellamy is going to take care of you. Just like we always talked about.” She promised, pulling the young girl against her, unable to bare looking at her for one more second, unable to hear anything she might respond with. 

“We don’t have much time.” She turned her attention to Bellamy, who stepped closer to her. He’d watched their exchange with wide-eyes and he couldn’t stop his own tears from flowing as he processed the magnitude of it all. She was saying goodbye  _ forever _ . What she’d written on that lantern, it hadn’t been about Polis or their time on Earth at all. It was about what she knew she had to do tonight. It was probably the same thing that had motivated her to say all that stuff to him earlier about staying with Echo.

“ _ Clarke _ ,” His voice cracked on her name and he surged forward, pulling her in for a hug with Madi between them. “What’s going on?”

“Just listen, okay.” Her eyes closed briefly. “Josephine is their daughter. They have a system, it’s like The Flame or ALIE except it can store an entire consciousness. The original Primes are all stored on these chips. When a black blooded person comes of age, they have their Naming Day and get...chipped. They become a host for the Prime on the chip. Their own minds gets era…” She couldn’t bare to complete the word. “It was the only way he’d let Octavia and Diyoza live. The only way he’d let you all live inside the shield without staying here. Without Madi being next in line for this sadistic ritual….” She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions down.

Madi was sobbing as she clutched her desperately; her mother’s words hitting her with stark clarity. Bellamy could feel his own nerves crumbling completely. “There has to be another way,” His eyes sought Clarke’s gravely as he pleaded.

“There isn't,” She swore tearfully. “It’s the only way.” She looked away from him again. This was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Last time she’d sacrificed herself to save him, she hadn’t had to watch him beg her not to do it. “I love the two of you. so much. You are my family and I will  _ always _ be with you. I will never stop loving you. That is something they can never erase, because it isn’t just in my mind. It’s a part of my heart. It’s a part of my  _ soul _ .”  She hugged them both once more and forced herself to let go, choking back a sob as she cast a tearful look at her friends who had become family, her own mother. She couldn’t go to them right now either. She had to walk away, or she’d never get herself to go.

It took every ounce of strength to walk away from them, but she knew she had to. With her back to them, she headed towards where Russell stood with an arm out waiting for her, his other one occupied by Delilah who looked tearful as well.

“ _Mom_ ,” Madi’s voice came out as a strangled sob. “Don’t leave me, I need you.”

It almost broke her completely. She always called her Clarke; but  _ mom _ ? She couldn’t stop and look back at her or she would’ve run to her; so she kept walking but her shoulders shook with sobs.

“They’re going to erase her! We’ll never see her again. Are you that angry at her you’ll let them kill her?” Madi screamed, her words were lobbed at Spacekru whilst Bellamy’s arms around came tightly around her to hold her back. She turned towards Raven. “You love her I know you do; don’t let them take her! Please Raven!” She was thrashing against Bellamy’s arms froughtlessly but Raven just gave her an anguished look, silent tears slipping down her face. “Murphy!” She cried out with the same desperation; he averted his own watering eyes, unable to bear looking at her. “Octavia, please!” She begged; imploring  _ any _ of them to do something that might stop these people from taking Clarke. Though the brunettes jaw clenched, she made no move to help either. Madi’s wails were almost howls now. She turned her eyes at last to Bellamy, her final appeal. “She is everything to us, Bellamy,” She besought him, inconsolable. “...and you promised me you’d always...”

He would have been convinced his heart couldn’t break any more than it already had if he hadn’t looked down at the mournful look on her child’s face. The way she stared up at him with, bereft with grief. 

Madi was right. Clarke was  _ everything _ and she always had been. He couldn’t fight the overwhelming urge he had to save her. He couldn’t lose her again, he’d promised himself he’d never let that happen.

He didn’t care if it got them kicked out. They’d figure it out, somehow. But he’d risked the lives of 283 sleeping people to save her once before and he would do it all again; without sparing it so much as a second thought. He’d risk anything to save her; that would never change. 

“STOP!” Bellamy’s voice was harsh; audacious. “You’re not taking her.” He let go of Madi and glanced at Octavia who moved protectively in front of her as he rushed towards the place where Clarke had just joined her would be captor. “At least not until you explain to me what is going to happen to my  _ wife _ . Man to man, don’t you think you owe me that.”

Russell narrowed his eyes, studying the man who stood before him with unwavering conviction. “Your love for her, has it always been your greatest weakness?” He asked, his words meant to disparage, yet still they clearly held a hint of admiration over his dedication to her.  
  
“ _ Yes _ ,” He admitted bluntly, moving his hand in to her own, intertwining their fingers as he tugged her back towards him and away from the pernicious man, placing his own body between them. “But it’s also my greatest strength and I will not just let her go, not without fighting with all I have for her.” He leaned his forehead to hers. “I’m not losing you again.” He whispered, “I  _ can’t _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review! Thank you for reading!


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you to every single person who leaves kudos, but especially reviews. I so love to read your thoughts and reactions so please keep them coming. No new episode tonight means I shall soothe your aching Bellarke hearts with a new chapter! 
> 
> PS: You might want to keep the tissues out.  
>  
> 
> PPS: But also; you're welcome ;)

The mood in the room was somber and full of unease. They’d all had reservations about going willingly into the castle at Russell’s insistence, but Bellamy had gone without even a second’s hesitation. Accordingly, they’d all followed suit, though unsure and concerned to say the least. 

He didn’t care about anything else but figuring this out. The desperation that bloomed in him now was unlike anything he’d ever known. Everything made sense now. Why she’d tried to push him away; the things she’d said earlier. He refused to believe this could be happening; that she could have chosen this. Chosen to leave him.  “I’m not letting you go ever again.” He swore solemnly as they walked towards the double doors. “You should have come to me with this,” He added, his voice shaking with the emotion he felt.

“I couldn’t.” She rubbed her thumb against his wrist. “You’d never have let me do this and it’s what has to be done. I’m sorry, okay. I love you so much and I just need you to accept this so that Madi will.” Their exchange was cut short as their entire party was ushered into the library. 

“I can see you’re all upset, but I promise you, this is going to be a beautiful, peaceful transition for Clarke.” Russell began, drawing the attention of the room. “It will rid her of all of her pain and guilt while allowing her to give us the greatest possible gift. A gift to all of Sanctum; including your people who Clarke has ensured will be able to live here in peace. That is all we want, peace for every one of us. We are not trying to hurt her, not in any way.” 

“Then I want to be there when you do it. I want to hold her hand and see that she’s okay. You said it is a beautiful; peaceful transition. Let me see that and have my closure.” Bellamy proposed, his eyes focused sternly on Russell’s. “If at any time I feel she is in duress, you stop.” His stance was challenging, he knew he’d learn all he needed from Russell’s response. 

The older man sighed, his tongue clicking in thought. “It’s a sacred ritual, Bellamy. Primes only; that’s just the way of the tradition. You have to understand. You can be with her before and after, that should suffice.” 

“It does not suffice. You are forcing her to do this and you won’t even let me be with her when she...” It was far too anguishing to finish the sentence.

“No one is forcing her, Clarke volunteered. She sees the beauty in our traditions. She understands the value in them; don’t you Clarke?” Simone offered up; a smile plastered to her face as her attention shifted to the blonde. “Remind him that you’re doing this willingly. Tell them you’re ready to be free of all the horrors that made you Wanheda.” 

Bellamy didn’t give her a chance to respond, he did instead. “There is a difference between doing something willingly and out of desperation.” His eyes narrowed at the woman. “If she needs to free herself from her burdens she can put them on me.” 

“There is a difference between thinking with your head and with your heart. Clarke is a superior leader to you because she knows which one to lead with. She is making a beautiful sacrifice that will benefit us all. You get to live with your people in peace. We get back our visionary daughter; a woman massively responsible for Sanctum growing into all that it has become. A woman robbed of fully experiencing the world she poured her entire heart, soul, and mind into.”

“Yet you won’t even think twice about robbing Clarke of her entire existence. Forgive me for not having any sympathy for you in that regard.” He bit back. “Losing Clarke has never benefited me. Not ever. For six years I was separated from her and when I found her a live I promised myself I wouldn’t lose her again and I do not intend to break that promise to myself or to Madi.” His devoted conviction was completely evident in his words and tone. 

“It appears we are at a stalemate.” Russell sighed, rising and crossing over towards the doors. “But you said she could speak for your people and she has. She has spoken justly and wisely. She has embraced and accepted her decision and if you do too, it will be easier on everyone. Including the girl,” He motioned to an emotional Madi who was wrapped in Gaia’s arms.

“I will  _ never _ accept this.” He seethed, glaring at the Lightbournes vehemently. 

“Then you will never know peace.” Russell seemed to almost feel sorry for him, but when the library doors opened and a pageboy approached and whispered something to him, he seemed to tense. “We have matters to attend to. Look, you should use this time to say goodbye. Fighting for her like this? It only makes her feel anguished about doing what she knows is right. It is cruel to torture her so.” He added with a false sense of wisdom.  “We’ll return within the hour; we expect you to be ready to go.” He nodded at Clarke.

Bellamy hadn’t let her out of his grasp, much less his sight since they’d gone inside. He willingly obliged as she led him towards window bench of the library, beckoning Madi to join them. As they sat down, the young girl curled up next to her mother, her face in her lap as she quaked with sobs. 

The others scattered about the room in various arrangements, everyone stewing quietly to themselves as Madi’s sobs filled the room along with Clarke’s whispered attempts to calm her down. 

His arm was slung protectively around her shoulders, his eyes transfixed on the way her fingers played in Madi’s hair soothingly. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he observed them, pained at how helpless he felt to make this better for either of them. 

The younger girl’s sobs had finally reduced to gasps and sniffles thanks in part to those tender strokes through her tendrils and over her back when the silence finally broke. “The synthetic nightblood solution.” Bellamy rose as the idea struck him, “We give them the serum. These people worship nightblood, they would jump at the chance to offer themselves up to become Primes. We give them the serum in exchange for Clarke leaving safely with us.”

Abby’s eyes widened as she stepped forward. “That could work.” And a few of the others gave their own concessions of agreement.

“It’s unethical,” Clarke interjected, softly, not looking at him. “We’d just be trading one life for another. These people may think they want this, but they don’t.”

“That’s not our concern,” He replied coldly, his eyes darkening.

“Bellamy’s right. You are our people, not them.” Madi’s voice had lost all its sweetness as she rose to stand next to him. “They don’t care what happens to you, so why should we care about them?”

“Because we’re supposed to do better here, we’re supposed to be the good guys.” Clarke lamented sadly. “Besides, their thirst for this is unquenchable. We give them that solution? They’ll only want more and think of the lengths they’d be willing to go through to get it. I watched these videos in their lab…they’d torture us just to get us to make more of the solution. ” She blinked at the terrible memories that flashed before her eyes of the footage the Lightbourne’s had begrudgingly shown her earlier given her incessant demands to understand the process. She’d spare her people the details as she went on, “We cannot help them continue this. They haven’t had a new black-blooded child born in the last six years. Their line is dying out. Soon, they will have no one left to host these implants and these people will know peace for the first time ever and I cannot be the thing that stands in the way of that happening.”

“Quit the self-sacrificing bullshit, okay Clarke?” Raven’s words had such a harshness to them, it made them all reel.

“It’s not the time Raven-” Bellamy warned his voice almost a growl, his eyes darting to meet hers with ferocity.

“No, she needs to hear this.” The woman retorted, her arms crossed firmly across her chest as she ambled towards Clarke confidently. “Look at poor Clarke; her friends are angry at her and holding her accountable for her actions and instead of standing up to face them she’s just….” She made a motion with her hands to indicate vanishing into thin air. 

“Raven that’s  _ enough… _ ” Bellamy warned again, growing more enraged, but Clarke rose from her spot on the bench now, placing her hand on his bicep placatingly. 

“Let her speak.” Clarke cleared her throat. She knew her friend needed this closure; if nothing else. Raven deserved to say her peace, even if her chosen method of delivery was somewhat childish. 

“It’s just typical Clarke Griffin. After Mount Weather, you couldn’t face what you’d done so you ran away. Then, you leave Bellamy in Polis to die and you can’t live with that so now you’re just going to… let them kill you? You’re a coward, Clarke.” The words were practically spat from her mouth full of challenge and anger that only rose more when she caught the look of what seemed to be pity in Clarke’s eyes. “If you were going to let them kill you this easily, you should’ve just let Octavia kill you in Polis.”

“Raven.” Murphy was behind her now, placing his hand on her shoulder gently before moving into her line of vision. “Listen, I’m not the president of Clarke’s fan club anymore either but it’s;” He gave her a pointed look and then more quietly added. “Not in front of the hobbit…” He said, eyes darting towards Madi.

His words had meant to temper her anger but they’d only seemed to motivate it further. “What happened to the Clarke who would sacrifice anything for her child, hmm?” Though her tone remained one of fury, her eyes had welled with tears she fought desperately to keep from falling as she delivered blow after blow. “You would have let him die to save her and now you’re just going to leave her here alone? What kind of parent are you?” She let out a snide snicker then. “Mother of the fucking year!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Bellamy’s voice boomed so loud it actually made Raven stagger back and the look that crossed her eyes then could only be described as fear. “You do not get to talk to her like that. Not ever, but especially not now.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke’s voice was far too soothing for the tense atmosphere. It was a balm to his ears even though he was content to stew in these malevolent feelings and direct them at anyone who might have them. Her hand was on his lower back and his eyes fluttered closed at the gentle contact. “It’s okay,” She cooed gently before directing her attention back to Raven. She walked right up in front of her and stopped, no anger evident in her stance or her expression at all. 

After all, she could see through the malice in her words for what it really was; grief. Raven wasn’t being cruel to be cruel, not this time. She was trying to rile her up. To get her to fight for herself. To try and save her. Because, at least some small part of her still loved her. The realization made Clarke’s eyes well with tears. “I love you too, Raven and I wish it wasn’t like this. But it is.” Her eyes blinked back tears that had formed, betraying her calm demeanor. “I don’t want to leave Madi.” The sentence came out as a sob but she gathered herself quickly, drawing in a deep breath; holding it for a moment to collect herself before she continued, “I don’t want to leave any of you. I love you. You are my family and even if you never forgive me. Even if you’re angry at me forever. Even if you stop caring about me; I will always love you and want to protect you and that is why I have to do this.” She was surprised but relieved to feel Raven’s arms come around her in a hug. But as the brunette’s body shook against hers with sobs; the reality of all she was abandoning hit her more starkly than ever.

She’d avoided them all the best she could earlier on purpose. She didn’t want this moment. Not with any of them. It just made this all more unbearable. It would have made it all so much easier if she could’ve left when they still hated her. As she held Raven, letting her fingers brush up and down her back just as they’d done to Madi’s earlier, she felt an odd sense of relief. It was when Murphy had wrapped his arms around the both of them, and she’d heard his own quiet sniffles, that she’d truly felt her resolve start to crack. She tilted her head back slightly as if that may be enough to stop the tears. At least she would die knowing that they hadn’t given up on her completely. It was almost poetically ironic, really. All of the sudden, with such little time left; she realized how much she truly wanted to live.

Abby had remained surprisingly quiet throughout all of this. Perhaps she was still processing it all. Perhaps her insatiable need to cure Marcus had spiraled her so far gone that she wasn’t even understanding what was at stake here. 

Or, perhaps not.

She walked to stand in front of Clarke after she, Murphy, and Raven had released one another. “I will take your place.” Her voice had a slight quiver, but her hand found Clarke’s and grasped it tightly. “I will inject myself with the night blood solution and destroy the rest of the vial. They’ll believe that you lied to protect me; you’ve proven to them how loyal you are to the ones you love. That’s why we didn’t tell them before that I was also a nightblood. They’ll believe it because we’re related. I’ll tell them I cannot allow you to make this sacrifice and tell them we will agree to their terms only if-”

Clarke surged forward and hugged her tightly. “You’re not doing that.” She said firmly. “And it wouldn’t work even if you tried.” She pulled back. “The Lightbourne’s want Josephine around as long as possible; they will not put her into an older host when a younger one is available.” She released her mother and looked down at the floor for a moment to collect herself. “Trust me when I say I have run through every other possible scenario.  _ Me  _ doing  _ this _ is the only way you all survive.”

Madi’s eyes welled with tears again, “What happened to ‘life should be about more than surviving’?” She asked, looking her mother in the eyes. “ _ She _ showed me those memories at the very beginning and I have never forgotten them.”

She knew who and what she was referring to instantly. “Madi…” Clarke bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “It _is_ about more than just surviving. Here; _you_ can live _._ _You_ can have the life we always imagined we’d build in Shallow Valley when the others returned from The Ring and got out of the bunker.”

“I don’t want that without you.” She whispered, breaking down again, she turned away and threw her arms over her face, falling against the bench they’d been sitting on together earlier. As Clarke moved to follow her and give her comfort, she was waylaid by a prompting voice.

“Clarke. A word.” Octavia had been so far off in the corner of the room she’d almoste blended into the wall. But she walked forward now, tugging at Clarke’s arm, moving her away from the group even as Bellamy’s eyes grew worried and suspicious. “As beautiful as it is watching everyone grovel over you, I’ve had enough. Give the nightblood solution to me.” She ducked her head, making sure no one else could hear her. “I have nothing to live for now anyway. No one will mourn me the way Madi does for you; the way they all do. Try and disprove that.” She gestured to where Madi had resumed her state of crying but this time, she was pulled tightly against Bellamy who comforted her now. His head was dipped to whisper something undoubtedly soothing and gentle into her ear. Clarke’s eyes followed hers and settled on the pair; her heart swelling again as it had in the woods. It was an unbearable thing to witness now; it made her ache with sadness for what might have been but now could never be.

“When I look over at Madi I also see someone else with her who disproves your claim with ease.” She tried to make her tone as harsh as possible, but failed at first and tried again. “Your brother loves you with the fire of a thousand suns, Octavia.” For the first time since the big revelation, Clarke’s tone lost all its gentleness and it seemed to warn Octavia not to dare say anything else that might undervalue his character. “Don’t disparage him by even insinuating you’d believe otherwise.”

Ignoring the last part, she replied to only the former statement. “That was true.” Octavia’s voice was more bitter now as she drew closer to Clarke. “My big brother was my hero and my greatest protector most of my life. Hell, he stowed away on what was basically a suicide mission just so he could be there with me to die. But when we came to Earth, I stopped being the scared girl in the floor. And I didn’t need a hero or a protector anymore because I became both of those things for myself.” Her stance was defiant as she angled her face back at him again, noticing how he handled Madi now with the tenderness he’d always shown her and it truly brought her joy to see the interaction. He was the one worth saving here. That was why she felt so strongly that she had to convince Clarke to let her do this. “Did you ask him about the algae Clarke?” She questioned, though her eyes remained fixed on Bellamy. “Did he tell you how he poisoned me because he came begging for your life and I refused? He poisoned me so you would live; let that sink in and then tell me I’m the one he loves with the fire of a thousand suns.” She challenged, leaving Clarke somewhat dumbfounded and unable to come up with a quick reply.

Satisfied with silencing the other woman, Octavia actually smiled. “My big brother told me a part of him wished that a part of me was dead.” For the first time, her confident facade faltered. “Well no one wishes that more than me.” Her voice and eyes softened as she continued. “If I do this; maybe that part of me will die and all that will be left is the part he still loves.” She had so much more vulnerability in her voice then she usually let people see and swallowed hard, refusing to cry in front of Clarke or attract the attention of the others.  
  
“He loves every single fiber of you.” Clarke’s eyes were glassy as she moved and clasped the younger woman’s shoulder affectionately. “He may not be proud of all of the things you’ve done. He may not understand them or agree with them. But no matter what you do or what he says to you; he loves you more than anything. I know because it’s the way I love Madi. I learned how to love and protect her so ferociously through the example he set with you.”

“So let me protect him this time, Clarke.” She practically hissed, her hand reaching and grasping the blonde’s forearm desperately. “If he loses you he will not survive it. He will shut us all out and he will slowly kill himself over it. If he loses me instead; he will have you to get him through it. Please. This is the only way, Clarke!”

“I will not let you kill yourself to try and win back the love you already have. Octavia, this is crazy. And it wouldn’t work. Two young, able-bodied black-bloods? They would just want to use both of us; from what I understand there are several other Primes who need hosts, including the three who died on the Elgius ship at our people’s hands. They are not going to trade me for someone else; you’d just be causing him to lose us both.” Her eyes had both pity and anger in them, “Stop trying to sacrifice yourself for absolution and earn it back instead.” 

“I’m not doing this for me! I’m not doing this for you or Madi either, okay? Call me selfish but god dammit Clarke, let me do this for him.” Octavia’s tone grew louder with her rage and garnered the attention of the others, who turned to look at them inquisitively.

Clarke had felt the same desperation to protect the ones she loved; so on some level she could sympathize with the woman. But that didn’t change anything. This was how it had to be and no matter how stubborn they wanted to be about it; it was happening. “The answer is no. Regardless of what you think, it would only make things worse.” Clarke turned away from her and moved back towards Madi and as soon as she’d gotten the girl’s attention, they were locked in another embrace.

Too much time had passed without a viable solution being produced. Jordan and Murphy were standing off to the side whispering intensely until all conversations seemed to taper off as Echo came forward. Much like Octavia, she’d taken to slinking back away from everyone else and just sort of observing it all.

She’d known for awhile now that Bellamy  _ loved _ Clarke. She’d witnessed him grieve her on the Ring. Heard his quiet cries in the shower when he thought the water was loud enough to mask the sound. Remembered how he’d isolated himself from them all for weeks if not months mourning  _ her _ . 

She could also recall each time he’d accidentally muttered Clarke’s name instead when he had been coming undone inside of her. She’d known, at least on some level, that she’d merely been a replacement in the beginning. He couldn’t have Clarke, but he wanted someone and some comfort and she was there and she wasn’t Clarke’s friend, so it was easier for him than if he’d fucked Raven. 

As they spent time together, things shifted between them from fucking to friendship, at least. She was helping him to cope, maybe not in the healthiest way, but it was better than not coping at all, she supposed. She’d told him all about how to shut off his feelings; to box up all that grief he felt and stow it away so he could breathe again. And though he’d been able to do that; the feelings were never forgotten and some part of her knew that when he’d found out Clarke was still alive; they’d come back just as strong.

Echo had fallen for him before he’d even touched her the first time, even though some part of her knew it meant next to nothing to him, at least at first. She couldn’t help but relish in every moment they had together even when she could tell the difference between the times he was really with her and the ones where he was pretending he was with Clarke. 

She couldn’t be bothered to care, if she was being honest. Let him pretend she was Clarke if it meant he held her tenderly after he’d fucked her brains out. She could accept that if it meant she could feel such love radiating off of him; even if it was meant for someone else, it felt entirely real and only for her in the moment.

“How long have you been in love with her exactly?” The words had left her mouth before she’d realized her lips had opened and they’d captured the attention of everyone in the room.

“It’s not the time Echo.” Bellamy’s attention turned to her but he wasn’t angry; more like sad and desperate than anything else. Why did all of these people insist on bringing up irrelevant things when they were still so far from a solution to this conundrum. 

“I’m not trying to start anything.” She stepped further into the room and now everyone’s attention was really on her. “I’m just wondering. I knew you loved her when she died for us but I never understood if her dying for us was what made you love her; or just what made you realize it, maybe? Or did you love her before all of that?”

“Echo,” His voice was pleading with her to drop this. If she wanted to be bitter about his feelings for Clarke, she could take it out on him later; at a more appropriate time. 

“You called her your wife.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “And you have  _ never _ looked at me the way you look at her; not  _ ever _ .” She took a ragged breath and she knew he couldn’t defend himself against that truth. “I can’t even be mad, that’s what’s crazy. How could I say I loved you at all if I couldn’t be happy that you finally had this person you wanted for so long right in front of you, loving you back? Six years you mourned her and then you find her alive...it just feels like...fate.” She shook her head and looked away. “I mean I hate it. I fucking hate every bit of it but....I can’t be mad at you.” She swallowed hard and stared at her feet. “And as I have stood here and watched you with Madi, I just think to myself; wow that is…” She blinked hard as a few tears slipped from her eyes. “It looks like the three of you are meant to be a family and I just…” She steeled her face; those Azgeda skills coming to good use. She turned to Clarke, “You can’t do this. You can’t let them kill you; because it would kill him. And we need him. This whole thing falls apart without both of you.”

Clarke was certainly taken aback by all she’d said but what option did she have? Everyone was so keen to remind her how this was going to destroy Bellamy or Madi, but none of them had any actual viable solutions that could spare them and keep everyone safe. She felt terrible enough as it were, but it only served to exasperate her more when they tried to pretend this wasn’t killing her.“Then show me the other option, Echo. Because from where I’m standing; there isn’t one.”

“We kill them. All of these Primes.” She shrugged, unfeelingly. “We free their people from their tyranny. We end the passing down of their Flames; or whatever they are, once and for all. That is doing better and being the good guys.” She argued convincingly, garnering a few nods and other concessions of agreement.

“I agree with Echo. And if you don’t go along with her plan, then I’ll tell them I have black blood.” Madi’s voice was strong and unwavering, she’d gathered her strength from Bellamy’s comforts, it was true. But she was also listening to the darker parts of her mind; where Shadeheda receded to. In her current state of melancholy, the darkness felt even more enticing. Grief and desperation could make a person do some stupid, impulsive things and she was a twelve year old girl after all.

“Heda!” Gaia piped in for the first time, rising to place a protective hand on Madi’s shoulder as she gave her a warning look that seemed to say that was not even remotely an option.

Clarke stared at her daughter, aghast. “And what do you think that might accomplish?”

“You would do anything to keep that a secret. So do anything. Stay with us. Fight this. Don’t just give up. How many times did you want to give up in Shallow Valley? How many times before we met?” She dared, stepping closer again. “But you never did. You told me the stories of all the people you loved. All the people worth surviving for. How when they returned we were all going to live.” Her voice was shaky now and with each sentence she spoke, more tears sprung in her eyes. “You made me believe we were going to be happy. You promised to be my family. Does that not matter to you anymore?”

There was so much she wanted to say; but she felt nauseous and the room felt blurry. This was all too much. How could they not understand that she was doing this for the good of everyone? She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave Madi. Or Bellamy. Or her mother. Or any of her friends that had become family.  She didn’t want to become someone else. She didn’t want any of this. But sometimes what you want and what you have to do are not aligned and Clarke knew that better than most people. She felt her heart pounding, her palms sweating, her breathing labored. She needed something to lean against, to regain her composure; then she’d be able to respond. “It matters more than anything,” She managed through gritted teeth, gripping the back of the chair to her left. 

“Last time I was afraid to lose you, you told me it was impossible. Because you were Wanheda and YOU decide who dies.” Her tears were born from anger, not sadness. “So decide to live!” She challenged, moving forward and shoving at her mother’s shoulders.

“Madi,” Her voice cracked on her child’s name. “I love you, but it is not that simple.  Please...you have to understand.”

“I will never understand.” She glared turning on her heel, her small body shaking with fury. “If you do this then,” She turned her head over her shoulder, her eyes finding Clarke’s. This was her final, desperate attempt to get her to stay, so she had to make it count. She mustered all the indignation she could manage, “If you let them do this to you, I will  _ hate _ you and you will have to  _ die _ knowing that!” She screamed.

Clarke was fairly certain everyone in the room could hear the shattering of her heart. Madi didn’t mean that, she knew she didn’t, but even so; the words cut deeply into her very being. “Don’t you ever say that…” She took one step forward, towards the young girl; she had to make this right. But as her foot came down, the woozie feelings overwhelmed her and she felt her knees give out. She could vaguely hear Bellamy calling her name, could feel his hand grasp at her elbow as he sprung forward to catch her as she fell, her eyes rolling back, and then; blackness.

 

***************************************

 

When she came to, she was on her side. Madi was kneeling in front of her, staring down frantically. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel Bellamy behind her, his hand running methodically up and down her spine in a way that made her want to close her eyes and drift back into oblivion. “Open your eyes, Princess.” He soothed, his thumb coming up to brush against her cheek as he shifted his knees and as such; her body against them.

She blinked a few times before looking up at him, confused. “You’re alright, you just passed out,” He eased her up gently to sit at Abby’s encouragement.

“How long was I out?” She asked, grasping his forearm for assistance as she struggled to find her equilibrium and sit upright. She didn’t fight at all when he tugged her towards his chest to support her. 

“Not too long,” He assured, eyes finding Madi’s. “I told you she’d be alright.” He smiled softly at the girl.

“I’m sorry Clarke, I didn’t mean to hurt you...” She had the saddest look on her face. “I didn’t mean it. I could never hate you. I love you more than anything. I just...I thought if I said that it would make you stay and not give up.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know all of that, don’t worry.” She leaned forward, feeling suddenly stronger or maybe just emboldened by her need to protect, and cupped her child’s face. “I was just overwhelmed by everything going on; it wasn’t you.” She pulled her in for a hug, cradling the young girl’s head into the nape of her neck affectionately. “ Ai hod yu in, otaim.” She whispered quietly in Trigdeslang against the side of her head.

“I love you too, mom.” She said, pulling back, staring into her eyes. She’d just opened her mouth to say something else but the library doors opened and several guards came in first, followed by Simone and Russell, then more guards behind them. Bellamy and Madi quickly helped Clarke to her feet and she tried to stand there as starkly confident as possible.

The older man was staring affectionately at Clarke, as if she were already Josephine and he seemed to ignore the rest of them. “We have much to discuss, darling. Have you had enough time with these-”

“Do you love your wife, Russell?” Bellamy interrupted, stepping towards the man. The guards surrounding him immediately tensed shifting their spears towards the apparent threat, but their leader held up a hand to tell them to cease pursuit. 

A hint of annoyance came through the look in his eyes, “Very much, Bellamy and while I do sympathize with your predicament-”

“Multiply what you feel for her times a billion.” His voice faltered with emotion. “Then you might possibly understand a fraction of what I feel for Clarke. I cannot let you take her from me. From her daughter. From her friends. We need her. I know Josephine is special to you and we wish we could help you. But we are not willing to sacrifice someone we love for someone you do. I discussed with my people and we all agreed; we will take our chances outside the shield. The deal is off.”

Clarke and Russell both reacted to his delivery with shock. “Bellamy,” The man spoke first and after he’d articulated the name, he laughed. “We are not just letting her leave. She is too important to us now.”

“Important to  _ you _ ?” That sentiment was like pure irony to him. “You have no idea how important she is.” He took a menacing step towards Russell. “I once bargained the lives of 283 people to get her back. I would have terminated their lives without a second thought to save her. I will burn your entire world down if you try and take her from me and that is not a threat against you and your people; it is a fucking vow. If you think you have experienced suffering; you have no idea the world of pain I will inflict upon you.”

“ _ Bell _ !” Her voice was eerily calm again as she slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers easily. “You have to think about the others,” She whispered to him, before turning her attention to the Lightbournes. “I made a mistake in not consulting with my family before agreeing to the terms of your deal. You cannot reasonably expect them to hand me over without putting up a fight; just as you are fighting for the person you love.” She pushed some of her blonde hair back behind her ear. “Please, just…” She wasn’t sure what she was even going to ask for; but she just wanted a cease fire. She wanted to say her goodbyes peacefully; not like this. “We need more time, please.”

“Listen.” Russell’s eyes locked on hers, ignoring everyone else. “There have been some… developments on our end. The other Primes,” He gave a heavy sigh; obviously concealing something of great importance. “We need to sort some things out before Clarke’s Naming Day can commence. Save your bold heroics, Mr. Blake.” He actually smirked then. “Threats like that will not be tolerated and will only serve to get you killed here. I’ll excuse your words as the musings of a passionate man,” He added with a hint of warning. “But Clarke will stay here at the castle with us tonight, we do not trust you not do something incredibly stupid if we let her leave. Despite your empty threats, I’m willing to let you stay with her; but the rest of your people will return to the tavern. You can be reunited with them in the morning and it’s not up for debate.” With a snap of his fingers, the guards began to round the rest of them up. “Fight me on this and you leave too, but she stays no matter what,” He added dismissively, placing his hand on the small of his wife’s back as he exited the room. 

They clamored around to say their goodbyes to the pair before they filed out reluctantly. Echo made entirely no move to look at Bellamy, much less kiss or touch him to say goodbye. There seemed to be a sense of finality and acceptance in her earlier words. In a way, it was like she’d given him her blessing to be with Clarke.

Madi held on to her mother for so long that the last two guards remaining threatened to tear her off of her physically if she didn’t let go. Octavia and Gaia had been able to convince her and she’d given her one more tearful and reluctant kiss on the cheek before retreating with them; promises she could return at first sun the only thing that could get her to let go.

When it was only the two of them left, they’d been escorted back to the same chamber as the previous night in stark silence. Once the thick stone door was clanking closed behind them, he was running his hands through his hair in distress. “We have to think of something.” He said emphatically, striding over to a table of books they’d pulled earlier, picking up a couple as if they may hold the answers to how he could save her and keep them all safe. “Maybe in one of these books… we can find an answer.”

“We can worry about that later.” She said gently, kicking off her shoes and sighing as she watched him; his shoulders tense with all the burdensome stress he carried. Though she understood and respected his want to find a way to fix this, she could think of much better ways they could spend what might be their final night together. Things like making up for lost time in the most indulgent ways.

“Later?” He couldn’t even turn around to address her. “There might not be a later, Clarke!” He emphasized; as if that fact weren’t brutally clear to her.

“Exactly why I don’t want to waste my time dwelling on impossible solutions.” She challenged, though her voice still had gentleness to it. “There are more important things we could do with our time.” 

He slammed the book in his hand down hard on the table in frustration. “What is more important than finding a way to save you?” His voice cracked as his eyes welled with tears. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t want to break down. He knew she needed him to be strong for her right now but he couldn’t stand to lose her again. “I barely survived the last time I lost you, Clarke.” His quivering voice betrayed him, tears slipping down his face.

Her heart ached, seeing him like this. “I’m right here, right now Bell.” She whispered, “Turn around.” She requested, her voice thick with something he couldn’t exactly place. He stayed still at first, his shoulders shaking with emotion. “Please, look at me.” She requested desperately.

He did as she’d asked, though only a painfully slow half-turn of his body before his breath was hitching in his throat as he heard the sound of her zipper. “ _ Clarke _ ,” He faced her now, eyes taking her in as her hands were on her zipper, tugging it down slowly. 

Her eyes moved to his as she stood next to the bed with obvious expectation, sliding the straps slowly down her arms, but keeping the bodice up with one hand. “Are you going to make me beg for it; or are you going to come help me out of this dress?” She asked, each of their gazes heavy with desire.

Even if he thought they needed to figure out a solution, his heart and body weren’t going to allow him to pass this opportunity up; not for a second time. He was over to her in two quick strides, his hands settling on her bare shoulders, raking down over the warm skin of her back before tugging at the bodice of her dress, the material settling at her hips as his lips moved to devour hers.

“Make love to me,” She whispered the request so softly, it was almost inaudible; yet he heard it with every fiber of his soul. His hands pushed the material down past her curvaceous waist so it dropped to the floor. He kept his hands at her hips, two fingers hooking under at either side of her waistband, shimmying down the last article of clothing that separated her from him. He licked his lips, taking in the sight of her; eyes studying every inch of her naked body with a hunger he’d never known. Forget all the incredible artistic works he’d seen at Mount Weather; he was truly beholding a masterpiece for the first time. He was so in awe of her, he almost forgot he was allowed to touch her until she’d moved towards him, “I need you, Bellamy.”

Taking his time, he let his hands come to cup her face, drawing it forward to kiss her with all the tenderness he could muster before his hands were sliding down; over her breasts and stomach, setting on her hips again. “I love you so much,” He whispered, his forehead against hers. “I’m going to show you exactly how much.” He promised, easing her back onto the mattress. She was splayed their horizontally; completely bared to him while he remained fully clothed. But as he lowered himself between her legs, all thoughts of the unfairness of that left her mind. 

It had been so long since she’d been touched that his warm breath next to her inner thigh was almost enough to send her over the edge. His tongue was attentive; warm, wide, and flat against her most sensitive areas. It made her feel so many things all at once; amongst them obvious pleasure. It was more than just that she hadn’t been with someone in so long that she felt herself so quickly approaching the brink of satisfaction. No; it was that she knew it was Bellamy and  _ that _ made it even more incredible. When his hands came under her hips, tilting her hips up further, she actually whimpered, her hands coming to grip the sheets at either side of her desperately. 

He made fast work of her; it was less than a handful of minutes before she was writhing beneath him; her moans indicating all that she felt as she reached the peak of ardent release, her fingers tangled into his dark tendrils all the while. He let out a satisfied hum, placing a kiss to each of her thighs before rising up onto his arms, his eyes moving up to hers to make sure she was still wanton to continue. When his eyes were met with her absolute desire for him; he was almost overwhelmed.

In one quick motion his shirt as off and he was moving over her, his hands fumbling with his belt. He needed her; he needed  _ this _ like it were the oxygen he needed to live. She propped herself up on her elbows, rising to meet him as he captured her lips with his own, feverish need consuming him. He was torn between needing to have his hands and lips all over her and wanting to rid himself of the clothing that kept him from her. “Let me,” Came her husky whisper before she sucked his bottom lip between her own, nipping gently at it with her teeth. 

He pulled back from her a little, allowing her to sit up underneath him. Her hands came more successfully to undo his belt and she pushed at his hips, rising to stand to help remove his pants. Her eyes did their own hungry once over as all of him became exposed. She bit her lip desirously, her lips finding his as she rose to her tiptoes, pushing herself flush against him as her tongue begged entrance to be reunited with his. His hand came to snake around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “You okay, Princess?” He asked softly, his breath heavy and labored.

“More than okay,” She panted back against his lips, turning them so now he was closer to the bed. She pushed her hands to his chest, letting the back of his knees bump against the mattress, “Lay down.” She whispered sensually, “It’s my turn to make you feel good.” She added, licking her lips as her eyes drifted southward. 

“Clarke,” her name was a tortured sound. “Later,” He smirked, picking her up in one fell motion, before tossing her into the middle of the bed. “I want this more right now,” He said, coming down over her, bringing her hands between her legs to knock her knees gently apart. “You are so beautiful.” He sighed, letting his tongue dance across the underside of her breast. “So perfect,” He muttered, grabbing her thigh and hitching her leg over his hip. “So  _ mine _ ,” He added, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, parting them slowly as his hand gripped her hip; thrusting lustfully into her before they might waste another moment without knowing how this would feel.

Her gasp only encouraged him more and as his lips came over hers he felt completely whole for the first time in his entire life. He took his time with her, despite his body’s want to come undone inside of her the moment he’d entered. His hips rocked rhythmically against hers as his lips roved over her breasts, shoulders, neck, and lips in a frenzied, uncharted exploration of intimacy. 

He’d been on the brink of the edge since the moment she’d been rid of that dress and now; as she whimpered and moaned variations of his name intermixed with ‘i love yous’ he could hardly take it anymore. “Babe,” His lips were on her neck as her back arched in pleasure. There were so many things he wanted to say but the overstimulation left him speechless.

Witnessing her like this was intoxicating. For all the times he’d dreamed of this, imagined having her this way; he was drunk off the fulfillment of his deepest desires. She was everything he’d always fantasized but also; somehow so much more than he could’ve ever dreamed. As he felt her body quiver and shake against his, he clutched her closer, finally willing to give in to his own wants now that he’d watched her moan and writhe with her second wave of intense pleasure since they’d begun their passionate foray. 

He fell apart inside of her, right along with her, unable to contain his unbridled desires any longer. Her lips were on his, her name a lost sound whispered into passionate kisses as they rode out their highs together. He collapsed against her, breathing her in; hardly believing this moment could actually be real.

“That was... ” Her eyes shined with emotion. “The closest to heaven I will ever be,” She remarked, pressing a lazy kiss to his shoulder as moved next to her and tugged her against his chest. 

The romanticism of her words made his own eyes glossy with emotion. “I’ll take you that close whenever you want.” He returned with a smile, kissing the top of her head, his finger tracing lazy patterns against her bare back and shoulders leaning down to kiss her slowly, threatening to make passions reignite.

Even as he kissed her, languid and lavishly slow, the sadness crept back in. “How do you expect me to let you go after that?” He asked, hips lips against her neck as he whispered the words.

“No,” She shook her head. “We’re not talking about that right now.” She persisted, pressing her lips against his strong chest. “I don’t want anything to taint this memory.” She begged in a whisper.

He looked down at her sad face and his heart ached for her; if this was the only peace he could grant her, he’d let her have it. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He murmured, angling her chin up towards his face to kiss her again. 

They were lost in their kisses almost instantly. Even if they spent centuries exactly like this together; he would never have his fill of her. But now, when time was so precious; they had to make the most of it. She’d just moved to straddle his hips, ready or her turn to take control, when they each heard the locking mechanism on the door engaging. 

Panic flooded through them both and he’d only just managed to pull the blankets up over her naked body before the heavy door was flinging open. “We have a pl-” Jordan’s words stopped instantly as he took in the sight before him. “Oh my god you’re naked!” He stopped dead in his tracks, horrified.  Turning away, he shielded his eyes, but his anxious realizations babbled out awkwardly regardless. “You’re naked and probably having sex…” His embarrassment was practically tangible. “Oh my god, this is weird. This is like walking in on my paren-”

“Jordan! Just stop talking!” Bellamy’s face was tinted scarlet and he gave Clarke a seriously annoyed look as she practically dissolved into a fit of giggles next to him as she hid herself behind his strong frame.

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny at all…” She tugged the sheet around herself and tried to create a makeshift garment, still laughing quietly as he rose to grab his pants and pulled them on as quickly as possible.

“We were not having sex.” He clarified defensively, because thanks to Jordan’s less than grand entrance, that moment had been ruined before it could really begin again.  He grabbed his shirt off the floor and tossed it over to her so she wouldn’t be naked around their best friends’ child. “We were just...kissing.” He wasn’t sure why he was even explaining this, that made it so much worse. He locked eyes with Clarke, clearly uncomfortable and looking for some help dealing with this. Unfortunately for him, she remained quiet and he still read only amusement in her eyes as she slipped her perfect legs into a pair of black leggings from the dresser she stood in front of. Holy fuck was she distractingly gorgeous, especially wearing his tattered old blue t-shirt. He turned away from her, refocusing on the younger man. “Actually, that doesn’t matter. What are you doing here? What happened to the guard outside?”

“Hey, listen; you don’t have to explain anything to me. I support it. Growing up, my parents stories...they always made me wish you two would end up tog-” He trailed off given the warning look from Bellamy. “Right, conversation for another time; focus Jordan.” He scolded himself. “‘I’m here, because we have a plan! Well, it’s mostly my plan but…” He reared back on course. “Ingrid,” He whispered towards the open door and a woman Clarke recognized as the one who’d brought their breakfast cart that morning came into view, dragging in the body of the guard previously posted outside their door. 

“Jordan…” Bellamy’s unease was plainly evident. He was not apt to trust strangers as it were, but especially not in matters involving keeping Clarke safe. Still, he went to the woman and helped her bring in the unconscious guard, closing the door behind them. “What did you do?” He asked, worry consuming him as he eyed Jordan nervously.

“Relax, it’s just a paralytic, okay? Good guys, remember?” He offered the older man a smile. “Ingrid is a friend, we can trust her. She’s going to help us save Clarke,” His eyes were crested with enthusiasm. “Tell them, about the Children of Gabriel!” He insisted, looking at her with eager expectation.

“We don’t have much time, right now. You’ll have to trust me to explain everything later.” Ingrid stated plainly, reaching into the oversized satchel bag draped around her shoulder. “Put these on,” She said, producing two guard cloaks. “The Old Man will keep you safe.” She promised, “But you have to do  _ everything _ I say.”

“Why are you helping us?” Bellamy asked, still suspicious though he did reach out to accept the garments from her outstretched hand. 

“Because what the Lightbournes and the other Primes are doing is wrong.” She said firmly. “And because Josephine cannot come back again...last time;” She seemed to shudder at the thought. “She is not a good person and despite what the Lightbournes think, bringing her back would be a mistake. Now we have to go, your people will meet us outside the shield.” 

There wasn’t enough time to think this through or weigh the options. They didn't even really know what this option was other than that Jordan seemed to be convinced it was going to work and Ingrid seemed completely reasonable, even if she wasn’t exactly giving them any answers. Bellamy’s eyes shifted to Clarke’s for the first time since Ingrid had entered the room and he tried to read her silently like he normally did but the expression he found there was too conflicted to decipher. 

“If I stay here and host Josephine’s chip, will I ever come back? Will a part of me still exist?” She asked standing in front of the woman, eyes full of inquiry. “Will I be able to remember the people I loved?” She wasn’t convinced leaving was in their best interest. If she knew she could remember Bellamy and Madi, she was going to make herself stay here and see this through. But if not….

“No. There’s no coming back from that. When you become Josephine Lightbourne; Clarke Griffin will die forever and with you, your memories. When you look upon the faces of your friends, your child, your lover...” Ingrid’s eyes found hers seriously. “They will be nothing more than strangers.”

Clarke stewed over her words quietly for a moment. “You think we should go?” She asked, looking at Bellamy, already knowing the answer in her heart but needing to hear it once and for all.

“Yes, no matter what it has to be a better option than this,” He motioned around them, taking a step closer and cradling her face in his hands lovingly. Even with all the unknowns, he was willing to risk it all. She was worth it. 

“It’s dangerous outside the shield. What if everyone else gets hurt? What if our people die?” She asked quietly. “It’s too risky.”

“I know you don’t think your life is not as important as everyone else’s. I know you think that the terrible things that happened on Earth mean you don’t deserve to be happy. But I can’t lose you again, baby.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “So if you aren’t going to do this for yourself, will you do it for me? Please? I need you. I’m terrible without you. You temper my worst impulses and you bring out all of the best of me; you always have. And i’m sorry it took me six years without you to fully realize you were all I ever needed to survive.” He kissed her passionately, hoping if his words couldn’t convince her, maybe that might.  “Maybe it’s selfish of me but I don’t care, I’m choosing you this time over everything and every one and I don’t feel guilty. You have given everything up for us, more than once. Let us give up Sanctum for you.”

“We have to go if we’re leaving…” Ingrid warned, remiss to interrupt their moment, but knowing it was necessary.  
  
“Okay.” Clarke swallowed, staring into Bellamy’s eyes, which seemed to actually light up with her utterance. “We leave,  _ together _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I rewrote this so many times and kept adding and taking things away and I'm still not sure how I feel about it! It's not my favorite to write the other characters, but I felt it was super necessary for the plot. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to tell me what you think or share any ideas you would like me to try and incorporate! Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review, I would love to continue this story if there is enough interest. I was not always a Bellarke shipper, but they have certainly won me over and I am completely rooting for them to get together this season!


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